


i like the dirty rhythm you play

by findyourstars



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Canon Bisexual Character, Eventual Smut, F/F, Princess Mechanic friendship, band au, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:59:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findyourstars/pseuds/findyourstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy's band has a new drummer, and Clarke is immediately infatuated. But Lexa has a Past, and she isn't quite ready to jump into something new. Will Clarke successfully charm the pants off of her? Raven thinks so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on, Clarke, please?”

Clarke rolled over in her bed to face the ceiling, knees lolling to one side. “I don’t know, Wells. I have a biochemistry exam coming up, and I’m not even done making flashcards.”

Wells sighed into the phone, his breath crackling in her ear. “Bellamy’s band is playing, and you want to support him, right?”

He was wheedling now, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, I want to support my friends. I’m not heartless, just busy.”

“Just for a little bit?”

It was Clarke’s turn to sigh. “We have to be back by eleven.”

She could almost hear him grinning on the other end of the line. “Awesome. I’ll swing by your place and pick you up.”

Wells rang her doorbell at nine o’clock on the dot, and Clarke gave herself one last glance-over in the mirror before going to meet him.

“Hey.” He grinned. “What, no fancy ‘going out’ digs?”

“You’re kidding yourself if you think I have anything nicer than ‘business casual’ for presenting at conferences,” Clarke retorted. Wells rolled his eyes but offered his arm like a proper gentleman to walk her to his car.

The bar was a little hole-in-the-wall place called Apford’s with a hand-written flyer tacked to the door to advertise the night’s music events. Bellamy’s band was going last, which Wells assured Clarke meant that they were the best.

“I’ve never seen him play,” she said, taking her ID back from the bouncer and following Wells inside. “Are they really that good?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t seen them since they got their new drummer.”

Clarke frowned. “I thought Raven played drums.”

“She does, but she’s taking some time off to focus on the technical aspects of the shows. And also apply to grad school.”

“Ah.” Clarke and Wells settled themselves on a pair of barstools with a clear view of the stage. The band before Bellamy’s was playing their last song of the night, and Clarke tapped her foot against the underside of the bar in time to their baseline. 

“Are you drinking tonight?” Wells asked, raising his voice over the music. Clarke paused, then waggled her hand in a “maybe” gesture.

“We’ll see how bad Bellamy is,” she quipped, and ordered a tonic with lime.

The band finished, and Clarke applauded politely as they waved to the (relatively small) crowd and began to gather their gear. Their guitarist was still on stage winding up his cords when Raven popped up, seemingly from whatever passed as backstage in this bar, and began to shoo him off. Clarke smiled.

“How is Raven? I didn’t get to see her this summer.”

“Did you see anyone this summer?” Wells teased, and Clarke stuck her tongue out at him.

“I had an internship.”

“Yeah, well I was just bumming around Arkadia, and Raven’s fine.” Wells took a swig from his beer. “She’s dating some guy now, I think? Another dude in the engineering program.”

“Is he here tonight?” Clarke scanned the crowd, looking for someone the appropriate mix of nerdy and suave to meet her oldest friend’s expectations.

Wells followed her gaze. “I don’t think so. Octavia said he’s hot though, in a geeky kind of way.”

Clarke laughed. “He’d have to be. Raven’s picky.” She drew her finger around the rim of her glass. “And Octavia is doing well?”

“Mmhm. She and Lincoln went abroad this summer, maybe to Italy? You’ll have to ask her.”

Clarke shook her head. “I didn’t really see the two of them together at first, but I’m glad they’re happy. I’m glad _she’s_ happy. And I guess Bellamy’s gotten off her back?”

Wells shrugged. “As much as he ever will. He let Lincoln in the band, at least.” He set his beer back onto the bar with a clink, his gaze back on the stage. “And speak of the devil.”

Bellamy was discussing something with Raven, his electric guitar slung across his shoulder with all the casual grace of a rockstar, and as he looked their way Clarke and Wells raised their hands in a wave. He grinned and waved back.

“See? I told you you should come tonight.”

“Smugness doesn’t become you,” Clarke said lightly. “Hush, it looks like they’re starting.”

Octavia had joined her brother on the stage now, waving at the crowd cheerily as she took her place behind the lead microphone. Bellamy and Lincoln stood off the side, messing with the tuning pegs on their guitars, and Clarke saw a final figure make her way to the stage.

“Is that their new drummer?” She asked Wells. 

He nodded. “Yeah. Her name is Alexa, I think Bellamy said.”

Alexa settled herself behind the drums, and Clarke swallowed. The girl was really, _really_ attractive, with an olive complexion and long brown hair tied back in a series of intricate-looking braids. Her eye makeup was dramatic enough to be seen clearly from the audience, and Clarke could see a tattoo snaking up her right bicep. Her very toned right bicep.

Wells didn’t seem to notice her preoccupation and clapped with the rest of the audience as Bellamy stepped up to a microphone positioned to Octavia’s left. “Hey everyone,” he greeted the crowd. “We are Ground Control, and we’re really excited to be closing out the show tonight. 

“My name is Bellamy Blake, and here with me on bass guitar is Lincoln Stone.” Scattered applause from the audience. “On lead vocals is my sister, Octavia Blake.” Octavia gave a little bow, grinning all the while. “And tonight is our first show with a new drummer, so please give a warm welcome to Miss Alexa Woods.” Alexa twirled a drumstick in one hand, but her expression remained neutral.

“Thanks everyone. Once again, we are Ground Control!” Bellamy stepped back from the mic, and Lincoln began a deep bass riff that Clarke felt thrumming through her chest. She shivered and took a sip of her drink.

The bass built, and Bellamy jumped in with a quick series of chords before Octavia began the opening lyrics of what Clarke recognized as Paramore’s “That’s What You Get.” The audience had begun to shift towards the stage once Ground Control had begun to get set up, and as the floor got more and more packed Clarke was glad that she and Wells had grabbed seats at the bar.

“They’re really good!” She yelled to him, trying to pitch her voice over the music, and he grinned at her.

“Bellamy in particular, huh?” Wells yelled back, and Clarke kicked him none-too-gently in the shins.

“You know I don’t like him like that.” She made a face. “Plus, we work so much better as friends — I think one of us would murder the other if we tried to date.”

“Right, right.” Wells glanced around them, sizing up the crowd. “We’ll find you a cute girl then.”

Clarke rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and she let her gaze drift back to the stage, where Octavia was crooning into the microphone like she was trying to make out with it. Lincoln and Bellamy were focused on their respective guitar parts, and Clarke could see sweat beginning to glisten on their brows. Lincoln was attractive, she had to admit, letting her eyes linger on his arms. 

And speaking of attractive…she glanced back to Alexa and felt her breath catch in her throat. Clarke knew next to nothing about music, but she knew talent when she saw it. Alexa wielded her drumsticks like swords with a fierce grace and intensity as she fabricated an intricate-sounding beat. She too was sweating with exertion, her muscular arms laid bare by a dark, clinging tank top that left little to the imagination.

Clarke licked her suddenly dry lips and raised a hand to call the bartender over. She needed something stronger.

Ground Control’s set was about forty minutes long, with a few breaks here and there for the musicians to wipe their faces and grab water. They closed out the evening with an original, and Raven surprised Clarke by coming out to take her old spot at the drums. Even more interesting, Alexa disappeared off stage for a moment and reappeared with an electric guitar, where she joined Bellamy and Lincoln. 

Wells finally noticed the object of Clarke’s attention, and he smirked. “She’s pretty hot,” he agreed out loud, and Clarke - two drinks in - let her head drop to her hands with a sigh.

“So hot,” she moaned, as Alexa threw her head back, braids loose and wild, and laid down an incendiary riff.

“We’re going to stay to hang out with everyone, right?” Wells asked casually, trying to slip it by her, and Clarke’s head snapped back up.

“Wells, I told you, I can’t stay out too late.”

He checked his watch. “It’s only…10:30 now, and you wanted to leave by eleven, so…”

“I wanted to be _back_ by eleven,” Clarke corrected, biting her lip. She had plans to wake up early and get some more flashcards done before her 9am lecture, and there was no way that was going to happen if she was out until the wee hours of the morning. 

Ground Control finished their song to enthusiastic cheers and applause from the audience, and Bellamy took the mic to thank everyone for coming. With the live music over for the evening, the crowd shifted back towards the bar, and Clarke began to get claustrophobic. 

“Let’s go find them,” she said, dodging a badly-placed elbow from an intoxicated patron. Wells helped extract her from the throng of booze-seeking customers and led her back towards the stage, where Raven was arguing with one of the bar’s tech guys.

“ _Amateurs_ ,” she snapped, finishing her tirade with a flourish. Her expression brightened immediately when she caught sight of Wells and Clarke.

“Hey, you made it!” She crowed, throwing her arms around Clarke’s neck. Clarke staggered back a step, laughing.

“I had to drag her,” Wells put in, and Raven released Clarke to give him a hug too.

“The show was great,” Clarke said, shooting Wells a brief glare. “I hadn’t heard any of your originals before.”

“Yeah, I miss banging on the ol’ drums,” Raven said, miming tapping a high-hat. “But I think we still sounded pretty awesome. The new girl wasn’t half bad either.”

Clarke’s heart sped up, and Wells asked, “Is she a friend of Bellamy’s?”

“Lincoln’s, he knew her from home.”

The aforementioned boys reappeared from the small backstage, and Clarke went to go hug Bellamy. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” she said, making a face.

“Good to see you too, Princess,” he teased. “How’d you like the show?”

“I’m glad Wells made me come, you can say ‘I told you so’.” She rolled her eyes.

“Clarke!” Octavia squealed, and Clarke prepared herself for another tackle as the younger girl launched herself from the stage.

“Hey, you sounded so good!” Clarke said around mouthfuls of Octavia’s hair. She had started wearing it long and tousled, and while it was good for her rockstar look, it was less productive for hugging.

“You think so? I felt a little pitchy on ‘Heartbreaker,’ but Lincoln said it sounded fine. Although he always says that, so.” Octavia smirked. 

Clarke looked over to see the final member of the band hovering to the side, hands shoved in her pockets. Alexa looked up and awkwardly met Clarke’s gaze, then glanced away. Before she could make the getaway she seemed to be planning, however, Octavia intervened.

“Lex! Come meet Clarke and Wells, they’re our friends from school.” Octavia literally dragged her over to Clarke, who was trying her best not to blush like an idiot schoolgirl.

“Hi,” Clarke said shyly, and held out her hand. “Clarke.”

“Lexa,” Lexa said cooly, and grasped her hand briefly. Her eyes were a fascinating green-grey that had Clarke mentally running through lists of flattering adjectives, and the thick eyeliner Clarke had seen from the audience was even more intimidating in person.

Lexa, as a whole, was rather intimidating in person, Clarke realized. She seemed to have no interest in making smalltalk with Octavia’s friends, and her expression was so closed off it verged on bored. The luminous passion that had radiated from her on stage had vanished, leaving an impenetrable facade that left Clarke feeling confused and a little frustrated.

“How long have you played drums, Lexa?” She ventured.

“Three years,” Lexa replied, and left it at that. Her eyes flitted over Clarke’s shoulder to Bellamy and Lincoln, who were chatting with Wells, and Clarke followed her gaze.

“So…you’re a friend of Lincoln’s?”

A single nod. “Our families are friends.” Again, no further explanation. Lexa met her eyes and inclined her head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me. It was nice to meet you, Clarke.” And then she was gone.

“She’s not real chatty.” It was Raven at her shoulder this time, and Clarke made a face.

“So I didn’t just piss her off?”

“Nah.” Raven shook her head. “She really only relaxes around Lincoln, although Octavia’s gotten through to her a little bit.”

Clarke let out a frustrated sigh, and something clicked behind Raven’s eyes, morphing her expression into something mischievous. Panicked, Clarke threw up her hands. “No, no, no,” she protested. “Stop that. I hate that look.”

“You _liiiiiike_ her,” Raven crooned, wriggling up close to Clarke and making kissing noises.

“I don’t _know_ her!” Clarke snapped back. “And it’s pretty clear that she has no interest in getting to know _me_.”

Raven shrugged. “You’re cute, she’s cute, I’m sure you can break down those walls a bit.”

“Seriously, Raven,” Clarke pleaded. “I don’t want you to, like, set me up with her or anything, okay? I just think she’s cute, that’s all.”

“I know that look. You want to jump those bones.”

“Well…maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean I can.” Clarke was blushing furiously now, and she clapped her hands to her face as Raven laughed. “Fuck off, Reyes.”

“Nope,” Raven said cheerily. “We’re gonna get you laid, Griffin. Count on it.”

Clarke just shut her eyes and hoped against hope that this would all be forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band + Clarke have dinner at Raven's house. Food fights, beer consumption, and selfies ensue.

It wasn’t.

She woke the next morning late and in a foul mood with no time to work on biochemistry before her 9am. Clarke dragged her hair back into a messy ponytail and wolfed down a piece of toast before yanking on a pair of shoes and speed-walking out the door.

Her phone beeped in her pocket, and Clarke pulled it out while trying not to trip and fall on her face. It was from Raven, the cheeky little asshole, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

 _Dinner at my house later? Gotta get you and Lexa on speaking terms if you’re going to have precious little blonde babies._ And then a series of emojis, including a rainbow and the two-girls-holding-hands.

Clarke texted back, _Only if we’re not the only two there,_ and shoved her phone back into her bag, ignoring the follow-up pings as Raven sent a series of excited emojis.

Thankfully Raven was good on her word, and when Clarke showed up at her apartment at half-past six, Bellamy and Octavia were already there.

“Hi, Clarke!” Octavia greeted her. “We brought beer!”

“ _I_ brought beer,” Bellamy corrected. “You’re not technically old enough to drink yet.”

Octavia shrugged and took a hearty sip of her beer.

Raven sighed. “Ah, youth. I remember what it was like to be 21.”

Clarke grinned and nudged her with her shoulder before leaning up against the counter next to her. “You’re only 22, you dork.”

“Exactly. I said I remembered it.” Raven gave a casual shrug, and Clarke plucked a peanut from a nearby bowl to toss at her friend. It bounced off her cheekbone and hit the counter.

“I’m surrounded by animals,” Bellamy bemoaned as Clarke and Raven’s food fight escalated from single peanuts to handfuls of the rest of the trail mix. Clarke was celebrating a particularly well-placed bit of pretzel when there was a knock at Raven’s door.

“Lincoln’s here!” Octavia chirped, and went to get the door. Clarke heard her add, “Oh, hi, Lexa!” and immediately dropped her next missile back into the bowl. A final M&M from Raven hit her shoulder, but she hardly noticed.

Lincoln pressed a kiss to the top of Octavia’s head and waved to the rest of the group, Lexa hovering behind his shoulder. “Hey, guys. Lexa and I brought beer.”

“So did we!” Octavia laughed, and there was a collective sigh from the group.

“Guess we’re getting drunk tonight, then!” Raven announced, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

“Can we at least have dinner first?” Clarke teased, then chanced looking over at Lexa. The drummer was dressed in jeans and a red-checked flannel shirt worn open over a black tank top, along with combat boots and dark-framed glasses. She looked hella gay, and Clarke felt a little flicker of hope.

“It’s good to see you again, Clarke,” Lincoln greeted her, and she waved in return. He and Octavia had met during the younger girl’s first year of college, when he was the TA for her political science recitation. At first, Bellamy had been resistant to his younger sister dating a man so much older than her, but Lincoln had proved himself to be very kind and reliable, and he and Octavia were crazy about each other. Bellamy inviting Lincoln into the band had served as an official call for a truce, and since then the two had formed a casual, if slightly awkward friendship.

Clarke wasn’t sure where Lexa fit into the picture. The girl in question was standing a little bit apart from the rest of the group, arms crossed defensively, and out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw Raven give Octavia a little nudge. The younger Blake sibling obeyed and came over to give Lexa a welcoming hug.

“Do you like shish kebabs?” Octavia asked. “We have chicken, beef, and tofu. And veggies.”

“Chicken is fine, thanks,” Lexa replied, her eyes betraying a hint of surprise at the exuberant greeting. “I’m not picky.”

“Lexa’s actually a pretty good cook.” Lincoln placed the two six-packs he and Lexa had brought up on the counter, and Raven began to put them on ice. “She makes a mean guacamole.”

“Damn, if I have known I would have gotten you to bring some!” Raven said. “Next time.”

Lexa shrugged, but she was beginning to smile. “Sounds good.”

“What else do you cook?” Clarke chipped in, resting her elbows on the kitchen island. Lexa’s eyes flicked over to hers and lingered for a moment, as if she was processing Clarke’s presence and trying to figure out where she, too, fit into this group.

“Odd things.” It seemed as if she was going to leave it at that, but Lincoln shot her a look that Clarke mostly missed, and Lexa continued, “Lincoln really likes my spring rolls.”

“She couldn’t make a decent chocolate chip cookie if her life depended on it, though,” Lincoln laughed, apparently ignoring the glare that Lexa aimed in his direction. 

“Really?” Clarke was fascinated. “What’s the difference?”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t have the patience for baking. It’s far too repetitive for my liking.”

“Well, I could burn a salad, so.” Clarke felt a little flicker of triumph as she got a tiny smile out of Lexa with that one. So she _could_ loosen up. Clarke decided in that moment that this would be her mission objective for the night: make Lexa smile as much as possible. Laughter was bonus points.

“Clarke, Lexa, what are you drinking?” Bellamy called over.

“Gin and tonic for me, Bell.”

“Beer is fine,” Lexa said, and accepted a bottle of the IPA that she and Lincoln had brought with them.

Bellamy dug through the ice in the cooler. “Raven bought all this hard cider shit, and she’s going to be the only one drinking it.”

“Beer isn’t gluten free, Bellamy!” Raven yelled from the porch, having apparently overheard, and Clarke stifled a giggle.

Once she’d acquired her drink, Clarke turned to Lexa and indicated the porch. “Should we make sure that Lincoln and Octavia don’t burn up our dinner?”

Lexa just nodded, but she stayed beside Clarke as the two of them walked out to chat with Raven, Octavia, and Lincoln, who were in charge of grilling the shish kebabs. 

When dinner was ready, the six assembled around Raven’s little dining table (she and Clarke had found it at an antique store last summer and bought it on the spot), and Clarke found herself with Raven on her right and Lexa on her left. Raven too noticed the seating arrangements, and she tapped Clarke’s foot with her own and gave a dramatic wink. Clarke ignored her but was blushing.

“To Ground Control!” Octavia yelled, raising what had to be her third or fourth beer of the night, and the group echoed her toast.

“And to our new drummer!” Raven added on, hoisting her hard cider. “To Lexa!”

“To Lexa,” Clarke chimed in with the group, sending the girl on her left a hesitant smile. Lexa’s eyes were glued firmly to her plate, but Clarke thought she might be smiling too.

Octavia and Lincoln (well, mostly Lincoln) had cooked the shish kebabs to perfection, and Raven had prepared a dubious-looking kale salad that actually ended up tasting quite delicious. In the lull between dinner and dessert, Clarke leaned back in her chair and sipped her drink with a happy sigh.

However, her peace was not to last long. Octavia set her bottle down with unnecessary force, making Clarke jump, and leaned across the table towards Lexa. “So, Lexa!” She started loudly. Lexa looked a little bit like a cornered rabbit — Octavia was the only one who had gotten to this level of intoxication so early in the evening. “Is there a boyfriend we should know about?”

Clarke stiffened, and beside her, Raven let out an exasperated sigh. “Lincoln, can you cut her off? I don’t want her puking on my carpet before dessert.”

“Does that mean I can puke _after_ dessert?” Octavia giggled, and Raven balled up her napkin and threw it at her.

They had given Lexa the option to dodge the question, but on Clarke’s other side, the girl cleared her throat. “No, there isn’t, Octavia,” she said evenly. “I actually don’t date men.”

And there it was. Clarke’s heart leapt, and she took a soft breath. Raven’s foot tapped against hers under the table in excitement, and Clarke ducked her head to hide the grin spreading across her face. 

Lincoln put his arm around Octavia’s shoulder. “Okay, babe, let’s go get you some water,” he said, helping her up to lead her to the kitchen.

Bellamy was rubbing his forehead with a palm. “I’m sorry about her, Lexa,” he said. “She’s a little…” He trailed off and shrugged.

Lexa actually - actually smiled, with her full lips curving back to show a tiny flash of teeth. “I like her,” she replied, and they all laughed.

Dessert was a gluten-free strawberry shortcake (again, Raven) that looked a little better than it tasted, but it wasn’t bad. Clarke got up to get another drink and glanced over at Lexa.

“Want another beer?” She asked, gesturing to the empty bottle in front of her place. 

Lexa shrugged. “I’ll come with you.” The two of them made their way to the kitchen, the noise from the combined living/dining room fading a little as they put a wall between them.

“Are you having fun?” Clarke asked, trying to keep her tone casual as she filled a shot glass with gin. It was an awkward question, she realized after it left her lips, but Lexa didn’t seem to mind. She shrugged again.

“It’s good to get out of my apartment,” she replied. “Your friends are really nice.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll keep ‘em,” Clarke quipped, and she was treated to another small, shy smile from Lexa. Score one for Griffin. 

“Bellamy said you’re studying medicine?”

“Not yet, I’m pre-med.” Clarke tipped the gin into her glass and added some ice. “I’m getting a second major in design though, so it’s going to take me like five years to graduate.”

“You’re an artist?”

Clarke looked up to see Lexa’s eyes close to her own. Very close. Clarke swallowed and took a half step back, suddenly nervous. “Sort of. Sometimes. Which is why I’m studying medicine too. W-What are you studying?”

“International relations,” Lexa replied, and she stepped back a little bit too, dropping her gaze to the floor. “No second major.” 

“Ah.” Clarke poured the tonic into her gin and mixed it around with one of the tiny straws she’d found in Raven’s well-stocked alcohol cabinet. The girl was tiny, but damn did she like to drink. 

Lexa moved around her to grab a beer from the cooler, and their shoulders brushed, making Clarke shiver. And suddenly, she had to say it. “I’m bi,” she blurted out. “—sexual. Bisexual.”

Lexa stopped and arched a delicate eyebrow as if to say, _And?_

Clarke felt the back of her neck heat up, and she shoved her hands into her jean pockets. “So, um, you don’t need to worry about Octavia and all them. They’re really accepting and…stuff.”

Her explanation made Lexa’s expression soften, her eyes relaxing and her lips parting slightly. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“Raven and Bellamy and I have been friends since high school. They helped me when I was figuring it all out.”

Lexa was quiet for a moment, toying with a bottle cap on the counter. “Lincoln did the same for me,” she said. “He actually…introduced me to my first girlfriend.”

“Aww.” Clarke smiled. “What a good wingman.”

Lexa let out a sharp, forced exhale that Clarke couldn't really interpret. “I suppose so.” And with that, she grabbed her beer and retreated back to the dining room, crossing paths with Raven.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Raven teased, nudging Clarke playfully. Clarke sighed and let her head tilt onto the taller girl’s shoulder. 

“She’s very confusing.”

Raven clicked her tongue. “I could have told you that, Griffin. You picked a tough fish to fry.”

“ _You’re_ the one who decided Lexa and I were the perfect couple,” Clarke shot back, raising her head enough to glare at her friend. “I feel like I’m talking to a very stoic brick wall.”

“She’s a little chattier than a brick wall,” Raven reasoned. “A tiny bit. A microscopic amount.”

—

The evening wore on, and Clarke was feeling a nice buzz from the gin. The others too had been making short work of the provided alcohol. Bellamy and Raven were on the couch, and Clarke was leaning against Bellamy’s legs while he played with her hair.

“Can you do a fishtail braid, Bell?” Clarke asked, tilting her head back against his knees.

Raven snorted. “I’ll be really impressed if he can.”

She got the impression that Bellamy was shrugging. “I’ve braided Octavia’s hair for years. I’m a pro.”

“Good.” Clarke’s eyes slid shut, and she let out a happy sigh as he began to comb his fingers through her hair. “That feels great.”

“Where’s Wick tonight, Rae?” Bellamy asked.

“Working.”

“Is Wick your new boyfriend?” Clarke cracked an eye open to watch her friend’s reaction. To her surprise, Raven’s cheeks darkened.

“Sorta new. We’ve been dating for a few months.”

“And I hadn’t heard about him?” Clarke stuck her tongue out. “Really, Reyes.”

“You were busy! And I wasn’t sure it was gonna work out.” Raven’s shoulders jerked in a tiny shrug.

“His name is really Kyle,” Bellamy informed her. “But Raven just calls him by his surname.”

“I can relate.” Clarke scooted towards Raven, pulling her hair gently from Bellamy’s grasp. “Are you happy?”

Another noncommittal shrug. “I guess,” Raven murmured, uncharacteristically shy. Clarke made a mental note to corner her when the two of them were alone.

Glass shattered in the kitchen, and the three on the couch craned their heads to look. “Octavia, are you breaking my shit?” Raven yelled, already halfway to a standing position.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy added, concerned.

“We’re fine!” Lincoln’s voice, and he appeared in the doorway, a giggly Octavia half-hanging from his shoulder. “I think this one needs to get home though.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.

Bellamy stretched and made as if to get up. “I can take her.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ve got her,” Lincoln said. “I needed to pick something up at her place anyways.” His eyes landed on Lexa, who was coming in from the porch. “Are you okay if we head out, Lex?”

Lexa hesitated, her eyes darting to the three on the couch, and Clarke jumped in. “I can give her a ride, Lincoln. I’ve only had like two drinks, I’ll be fine to drive.”

He glanced to Lexa, who nodded. “Go ahead and take her home, Linc.”

“All right, then.” Lincoln and Octavia said their goodbyes, and Clarke got up to get some water. She found Lexa in the kitchen eyeing the photographs on Raven’s fridge.

“Is this you?” Lexa tapped a polaroid of two braces-wearing pre-teens embracing in front of a school building.

Clarke grimaced. “Oh god. Unfortunately.”

Lexa smiled. “How long have you known Raven?”

“Something ridiculous like nine or ten years. We went to middle school together.”

Lexa stared at the photograph for another long moment before turning back to Clarke. “Do you want to go out onto the porch? The moon is gorgeous.”

Startled by the offer, Clarke nodded. “Sounds nice.”

Raven’s apartment was on the second floor of her building, giving her a little balcony with just enough room for a small grill and two Adirondack chairs. Clarke was going to sink into one of the chairs, but Lexa went to the balcony rail and propped her elbows up onto it. Clarke joined her.

“Thanks for the ride,” Lexa said. “I didn’t fancy sharing a car with the lovebirds.”

“I don’t blame you. Octavia doesn’t have a lot of self-control when she’s drunk. Or sober, really.”

Lexa clicked her tongue and fell silent for a few beats, her eyes on the half-moon glowing in the sky. “Is it awkward to ask if you and Bellamy are a thing?”

Clarke laughed, but stopped when Lexa met her eyes, looking chagrined. “Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. We just get asked that all the time. We’re not, by the way,” she added. Was it her imagination or did Lexa’s shoulders relax a little bit?

“I see,” Lexa said, but her tone wasn’t entirely certain.

Clarke decided to turn the questioning back to her. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

Lexa’s shoulders may have dropped in response to Clarke's earlier response, but now they were creeping up again. Her body language was stiffening, and Clarke felt a flash of panic. Time to backpedal. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” Just when she thought Lexa was beginning to open up, too.

“No, I’m not,” Lexa’s reply was clipped, and there was clearly more to the situation, but her eyes had grown cold and distant, and Clarke decided to take the conversation back in her own direction.

“Me neither. I was dating a guy for a little while but we broke up about a year ago.” She paused. “He, um, was dating Raven too and hadn’t told me about it.”

Lexa stared at her, eyebrows raised. “He cheated on _her_ with _you_ …and you’re still friends?”

Clarke laughed, her gaze pointed up at the stars. “I know, it sounds silly, right? We had grown apart a little bit, and I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. Once we figured it out though, we dumped him, of course.” She shook her head. “And funnily enough, it brought us closer again. And now she’s probably my best friend.”

“Drama drama,” Lexa sighed, but when Clarke looked at her, the other girl was smiling slightly. “I knew joining a band would change my social scene.”

It was almost a joke, and Clarke’s own smile widened. Maybe she just had to keep the conversation away from Lexa’s personal life and let her broach the subject in her own time.

She was caught up in her own thoughts and missed Lexa’s next query. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’d ever dated another woman.”

Clarke shot her a quick glance, trying to judge the intentions behind the question. Lexa’s expression was neutral enough that it revealed nothing, so she went in blind. “I haven’t. Our high school was pretty conservative, and I haven’t dated anyone in college besides Finn.”

Lexa just hummed in response and went back to looking at the stars. After a moment of pondering, Clarke let her gaze drift to the heavens as well.

—

“You can just pull in here.”

Clarke obeyed and put her car in park in front of a brick building before glancing over to Lexa. The other girl was already looking at her and ducked her head. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“No problem.” Clarke paused, then added, “It was great to see you again, Lexa.”

“You too.” The reply was automatic, but Lexa’s small smile was genuine. She let herself out and was about to close the door when she ducked down to peer into the car once more. “Would you…be okay to see each other again? Maybe get dinner or something?”

A chill pricked at Clarke’s spine, and she fought to keep her grin to a reasonable size. “I would like that, a lot.”

They exchanged numbers, and as Clarke drove away she cranked up the radio and belted along to Katy Perry with no shame.

Once she’d reached her own apartment she kicked off her shoes and flopped face-first onto her couch, fishing her phone from her pocket. She had several texts from Raven.

Raven Reyes (1:02am): Bellamy is drunk as fuck  
Raven Reyes (1:02am): If it wasn’t Bellamy I’d be pissed off  
Raven Reyes (1:18am): He’s asleep on my lap like a dumb puppy

Raven had also attached a selfie, with a snoozing Bellamy’s head on her hip as she gave him bunny ears. Clarke smiled and saved it to her phone for later blackmailing purposes, then typed out a reply to her friend.

Clarke Griffin (1:30am): Perfection. Is he crashing at your place then?  
Raven Reyes (1:31am): !!!! Oh good you’re back. I missed you.  
Clarke Griffin (1:32am): I literally left your house like half an hour ago.  
Raven Reyes (1:33am): Well I still miss you.  
Raven Reyes (1:35am): And yes he is sleeping here because he is too drunk to steer a car in a straight line.  
Raven Reyes (1:36am): Did you get Broody back to her house?  
Raven Reyes (1:45am): Claaaaaaaarke  
Clarke Griffin (1:47am): Sorry, was showering.  
Clarke Griffin (1:48am): And yeah, I did. And we swapped numbers ;)  
Raven Reyes (1:49am): YEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH booty calls AWAIT  
Clarke Griffin (1:50am): Haha, I don’t know about that.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from one Lexa Woods.

Lexa Woods (1:51am): Did you get home okay?  
Clarke Griffin (1:51am): Yeah, I did, thanks :) Currently deciding if I should try to make it to my bed or if my couch is comfy enough to spend the night.  
Lexa Woods (1:53am): The struggle is real ;)

Clarke smiled.

Clarke Griffin (1:54am): Indeed. On that note, I think I’m going to call it a night.  
Lexa Woods (1:55am): Okay.  
Lexa Woods (1:56am): Sleep well, Clarke.  
Clarke Griffin (1:56am): You too, Lexa. Good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, friends! My plan is to post updates for this story on Mondays and Thursdays, but don't be surprised if I'm a little slow at first. This'll be my first time scheduling updates, so I'm hoping it gives me more motivation to write.
> 
> Feel free to check me out on tumblr @ clarkesmech, and see you soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa go on their first date, of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of suicide in this chapter (no graphic descriptions)

It was two days later when she heard from Lexa again. She was glad it was Lexa who had taken the initiative — Clarke was very confused by how carefully the other girl was guarding her private life, and even though Lexa had been the one to propose they get together again, Clarke couldn’t help but second-guess things. Was Lexa just being polite to the friend of her bandmates? Did she actually care about Clarke and want to get to know her further? And if that was the case, why was she so closed off? (More importantly, what was Lincoln doing correctly that apparently landed him on Lexa’s “safe” list?)

Raven had been texting her to ask for updates, but even though she knew her best friend wouldn’t judge her, Clarke was hesitant to open up about her fears. She was far too early on in her budding relationship with Lexa; there was absolutely zero guarantee that anything would come of it. And if things didn’t work out, Clarke would have hated to waste time and energy agonizing over a relationship that never came to be. 

So it very nearly made her day when she got a text from Lexa one afternoon as she was haphazardly folding a stack of dryer-warmed clothes.

Lexa Woods (4:01pm): Do you like bubble tea?

Clarke put down the sweatshirt she was wrestling with and tried (ineffectively) to not get her hopes up. It wasn’t necessarily an invitation.

Clarke Griffin (4:03pm): I do! May I ask why?

There was a long pause between messages, and Clarke set her phone on her chest of drawers so she could hear it if it beeped.

Lexa Woods (4:10pm): Would you want to go get some this afternoon?   
Lexa Woods (4:11pm): We were supposed to have band practice but it got cancelled, so I have a couple unexpected hours of free time.

Clarke never thought she would be this happy about not having a life. 

Clarke Griffin (4:12pm): I don’t have anything going on, so that sounds good to me! Where’s the best place to get bubble tea in town?  
Lexa Woods (4:14pm): Most likely the place on Main St., I’d say. Want to meet there in like twenty minutes?  
Clarke Griffin (4:15pm): Sounds great! See you soon.

\--

The “place on Main St.,” Clarke discovered, was the little hole-in-the-wall sushi place she’d eaten at once or twice before with Raven and Bellamy. The food was spectacular, and there was generally a wait for a table, but she figured that 4:30 in the afternoon wasn’t necessarily prime mealtime.

Having arrived a little early, she pulled out her phone and sent a snapchat of the restaurant front to both Raven and Bellamy with the caption “We need to eat here again” and a little sushi emoji. Her phone buzzed almost instantly with a reply from Raven.

Raven Reyes (4:30pm): Ughhhh god thanks for making me want sushi  
Clarke Griffin (4:31pm): That’s what I’m here for!  
Clarke Griffin (4:31pm): Why do y’all not have practice this afternoon?  
Raven Reyes (4:32pm): Because I’m sick as a fucking dog and no one else knows how to work the sound equipment  
Clarke Griffin (4:32pm): Aw no! :( What’s wrong?  
Raven Reyes (4:33pm): Stomach flu or some shit. I feel like a truck backed over me twice and then came back for more  
Clarke Griffin (4:34pm): Aw babe, I’m sorry. Can I bring you soup or something later?  
Raven Reyes (4:35pm): I mean if you want to see me looking like something out of the Walking Dead, then sure  
Raven Reyes (4:35pm): You don’t have to, but thanks for the offer <3  
Clarke Griffin (4:36pm): Okay, I’ll let you know. Gotta run but I’ll talk to you later. Feel better!

Lexa was waiting for her at a corner table, fidgeting with her phone until she caught sight of Clarke and looked up with a smile. 

“Hey,” Clarke greeted her, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Hi,” Lexa replied, running a hand through her hair shyly. 

“I didn’t know this place had bubble tea,” Clarke commented, glancing around them. The restaurant was relatively full, but like she’d predicted it wasn’t too bad. “Their sushi is really awesome, though.”

“That’s how I discovered their bubble tea,” Lexa said. She nudged her paper menu towards Clarke, who accepted it and began glancing over the different flavors available.

When the waiter came by, Lexa ordered strawberry bubble tea, and Clarke chose plain coconut. One he had left and taken their menus, Lexa began to fiddle with her phone again, and Clarke could feel her tapping her foot under the table.

“How long have you been in the band, anyways?” Clarke asked, to break the just-barely-awkward silence growing between them.

“Just since the beginning of the summer,” Lexa replied, glancing up to meet Clarke’s eyes. “Bellamy had been looking for a new drummer for a month or two before Lincoln told me about the gig.” She shrugged. “And the rest, they say, is history.”

Clarke leaned back in her chair. “I feel bad that I hadn’t heard any of that. I had an internship this summer so I was mostly off the grid for a few months.”

“Where was your internship?”

“Memorial Hospital, over in Alexandria,” Clarke said, naming the nearest large city, about an hour and a half away.

“Did you commute?”

“No, I had an apartment over there.” Clarke paused. “My mom and her boyfriend actually live in Alexandria, but I didn’t really want to live with them.” She huffed a laugh. “Not exactly my idea of a good time.”

“Are your parents…divorced?” Lexa ventured.

It was an old wound, scarred over by now, but Clarke still found the skin surrounding it to be a little tender. Her gaze dropped to the tabletop, where she began tracing vague spirals with the nail of her pointer finger. “My dad died when I was sixteen,” she said, keeping her voice even. “So it’s just my mom.”

“I’m…sorry,” Lexa replied softly, and Clarke looked up to see that the other girl too was staring at the table. What a cheery conversation they were having.

Clarke shrugged. “It’s okay, you didn’t know.” Lexa’s eyes crept up to meet her own and, encouraged, she continued. “My mom’s been with this same guy for a couple of years now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they get married after I graduate college.”

“Do you like him?”

Another shrug. “He’s okay. He was kind of a hardass at first, but he’s backed off a little bit. I don’t think he really knew how to deal with a stepkid who’s not really a kid anymore.”

The waiter arrived with their bubble tea then, creating a natural break in the conversation, and after Clarke had taken a couple sips of hers she decided to chance a personal question. “Where are you from?”

“DC, so not too far,” Lexa replied.

“Any siblings?”

“Nope.” Lexa toyed with the thick straw stuck into her glass. “I’m assuming you’re an only child too?”

“Yes ma’am. I like to pretend that Octavia’s my little sister sometimes, though,” Clarke joked, and Lexa smiled.

“She and Lincoln make a good couple. And I don’t usually like his girlfriends, so that’s saying something.”

“Same, but for her boyfriends. She’s dated a couple of douchebags, so I’m happy to see her with a real gentleman for once.”

Lexa was eyeing her, a question hovering around the edges of her lips, and Clarke let her be the one to break the silence. “So does your mom know about your…you know.” Her eyes dropped, then went back to Clarke. “About your sexuality?”

“In theory, yeah.” Clarke took a sip of her tea and chewed on a tapioca bubble for a moment. “Since I’ve only ever dated men I don’t think she’s really had to think about it, but I told her and my dad back when he was still alive.” She gave a tiny smile. “My dad said that as long as he could say my hypothetical girlfriend was hot, he didn’t care if I dated women or men.”

Lexa smiled too. “That was basically my dad’s reaction. My mom just told me to use protection, because,” she made air quotes, “‘even though you can’t get pregnant, there’s still the risk of STDs’.”

Clarke grinned. “The Talk. Gotta love it.”

“I wanted to melt into the sofa.” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I think they were just relieved they didn’t have to worry about me getting knocked up and running off with a rocker boyfriend.”

“Rocker girlfriends can be dangerous too,” Clarke pointed out. “I wouldn’t trust my daughter to date Raven, or Octavia for that matter.”

Lexa shrugged, looking suddenly shy. “I think I’m pretty tame for a rocker.”

“I don’t know, you looked pretty intimidating when I saw you perform for the first time,” Clarke teased gently, feeling out the uncharted territory. Were they flirting now?

Lexa actually laughed at that one. “I guess. That’s more of a persona though, like a character I put on for shows. It keeps me from getting stage fright.”

“ _You_ get stage fright?” Clarke asked incredulously. “But you look so comfortable up there!”

“Persona, I’m telling you.” Lexa took another sip of her tea. “Works every time. I just pretend I’m more confident than I actually am, and apparently it fools people.”

Something clicked in Clarke’s mind. “Is that why you’re so…closed off, sometimes? The first time I met you I had to ask Raven if I’d done something to irrevocably piss you off.”

Lexa’s cheeks darkened, and her eyes danced to the side. “Maybe. Lincoln tells me that I tend to come across a little strong.”

On impulse, Clarke reached across the small table and touched Lexa’s wrist. The other girl jumped, then met her gaze. “It’s okay. As long as I know that you’re not, like, secretly plotting to kill me because I’m being so goddamn annoying,” she teased.

Lexa gave a soft chuckle. “No, no worries. You’re not annoying at all.” Shyly, she flicked Clarke a tiny wink, and then giggled as it was Clarke’s turn to blush.

—

“Would you want to duck in there? I’ve found some pretty cool stuff for cheap.” Lexa indicated a used bookstore to the right of the sushi restaurant, and Clarke nodded.

“Sure, lead on.”

It was one of those old bookstores with a dog sleeping by the front door and shelves so tall they blocked out the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. Clarke took a deep breath and smiled. It smelled like worn paper and leather, like she and Lexa had stumbled across an unexplored library hidden away in the depths of their city. 

“I love it already,” she breathed, and Lexa smiled.

“Come on,” she said, and surprised Clarke by taking her hand and leading her past hand-designed journals and old records to the back corner of the bookstore, where the shelves closed in and made little protected tunnels. Lexa’s hand was cool on her own, and Clarke was sad to drop it once Lexa stopped. The brunette started tracing her finger across the spines of the books collected under the “Music” section, and Clarke turned to find “Health & Medicine” at her back. How convenient.

She was lost in an old edition of _Grey’s Anatomy_ until Lexa reappeared at her elbow with a small black book titled in German. “Lucas Griffin,” Lexa read from the inside cover. “Is he a relative of yours?”

Clarke glanced over. “Not that I know of, why?”

“This was his book,” Lexa held it up for Clarke’s inspection. “Have any family members who studied…” She paused and squinted at the title, “…18th century German literature?”

“That’d be news to me.” Clarke blinked. “Wait, do you speak German?”

“Took it in high school. I guess I maintained some of it.” Lexa opened to a random page in the book and cleared her throat, taking on a scholarly expression. Clarke giggled, and Lexa began to read aloud, stumbling a little over the odd word but mostly speaking with clarity. After a few lines she looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Thoughts?”

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said, but it sounded good,” Clarke replied, slipping _Grey’s_ back onto the shelf. They were standing close enough now that their hips were touching. “German’s kind of a sexy language.”

Lexa gave a huff of laughter. “Most people think it just sounds aggressive, but I’ve always loved it.” Her eyes fell to the text again, and Clarke found her own gaze drifting to Lexa’s lips. Here, in a secluded corner of an old bookstore, shrouded by the silent knowledge of worn-in books, she wanted nothing more than to kiss the girl standing beside her. A strand of Lexa’s hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and as Lexa reached to push it back behind her ear, she glanced up and caught sight of Clarke watching her. “What?” 

With a feeling in her stomach like she was about to leap out of a plane, Clarke swallowed and said, “You’re so beautiful.”

Lexa bit at her bottom lip, smiling faintly. There couldn’t be more than a fifteen or so inches between their faces, and Clarke swore she could hear the other girl’s heart racing. Slowly, like approaching a bird and trying not to startle it into flight, Clarke leaned in towards Lexa.

“May I?” She breathed, her voice a whisper.

Lexa let out a shaky exhale, and Clarke’s eyes slid shut as Lexa’s lips brushed against her own in a soft, closed-lips kiss. Her lips were soft and tasted like strawberry from the bubble tea, and Clarke breathed out through her nose in a sigh. She was about to press on and probe at Lexa’s closed lips with her tongue when the other girl broke their kiss suddenly, leaving Clarke’s lips tingling. Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see Lexa make a break for it. Their shoulders brushed, and then Lexa was gone, and a few seconds later Clarke heard the bell hanging over the bookstore’s entrance jingle.

“Shit,” she hissed, leaning back against a shelf and putting her hand to her forehead. What the hell had happened? Lexa was the one that had kissed _her_ , so it wasn’t like she hadn’t been interested. Or had she only kissed Clarke because she felt like she had to? Was she still feeling sorry for her after she’d told her about her dad? Clarke shook her head. She could chase these thoughts until her head was spinning, but there was really nothing to gain by that. Hopefully Lexa would explain, and hopefully Clarke hadn’t just destroyed a perfectly good maybe-more-than-platonic relationship. 

Heart still pounding, Clarke counted to one hundred before following Lexa. For all Clarke knew, the girl had hopped in her car and taken off for home. However, as she left the bookstore, she saw Lexa on a bench a few yards away, head in her hands. Clarke cleared her throat, and Lexa looked up, startled. Clarke was dismayed to see that her eyes were glassy from crying.

Her words stalling in her throat, Clarke stopped and shifted her weight. Lexa swiped roughly at her eyes, leaving streaks of tears on her cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice rough. “I’m really sorry, Clarke. I thought I was ready.”

Taking the communication as a good sign, Clarke sank down on the other edge of the bench, leaving a good two feet of space between them. “I’m sorry that I pushed you.”

“No, no, you didn’t.” Lexa sounded frustrated, and Clarke looked over to see her fingers curling into fists in her lap. “It was my fault.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Clarke said softly. “I won’t hold it against you, I promise. We can still be friends, if you like.”

“You don’t understand,” Lexa spat, and she leapt to her feet, eyes flashing. “I _should_ be ready. It’s been over a year, and I really like you, Clarke,” she was looking at Clarke now, and Clarke was getting a little bit of emotional whiplash from all this back and forth, but she nodded anyways. 

“A year since what, Lexa?” She asked softly.

Lexa stopped in her tracks. “Lincoln didn’t tell you?”

“Lincoln hasn’t told me anything.”

Lexa let out a frustrated sigh. “Dammit, I was hoping he had.” She sat back onto the bench, but her leg was jiggling against the sidewalk. “I told you Lincoln introduced me to my first girlfriend, right? Her name was Costia. We dated for two years and then broke up when I went off to college.” She twined her fingers together in her lap. “Long story short, we both dated some people and then got back together again.” Her leg began to jiggle harder, to the point where Clarke felt the bench vibrating beneath them.

“Costia was…depressed when we got back together. Really depressed.” Lexa swallowed. “She killed herself about a year and a half ago.”

Clarke let out a long exhale. “Oh, Lexa. I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since then. I thought I was ready, but…” Lexa jerked her shoulders in an echo of a shrug. “It’s hard.”

“I get it,” Clarke tried. “Well, I don’t _get_ it, but I can understand that it’s hard for you.” Another bird-like shrug from Lexa. “Would it be too hard for us to stay friends?”

“No,” Lexa’s gaze snapped to hers, and her eyes were certain. “No, I want to be friends. Maybe more, someday.” A shadow of color spread across her cheekbones. “I do really like you, Clarke.”

“I like you too,” Clarke replied, “but I also don’t want to push you into anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” On a whim, she reached over and laid her hand over Lexa’s. Lexa flipped her hand over and laced their fingers together.

“Thank you. Really.” Lexa let out a choked laugh. “Sorry I’m such a train wreck.” 

“Show me someone who’s _not_ ,” Clarke quipped, and she was pleased when she got a small smile out of Lexa. “Friends it is, then.”

“Friends it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, friends! And I'm pleased to see that some of you have hopped over to my Tumblr as well :) The more the merrier!
> 
> Spoiler: there will be some Wicken shenanigans in the next chapter. I haven't written Wick before, so I'm pretty pumped. Also the scene in the bookstore is based on an encounter I had with my girl, although she didn't run away, hehe.
> 
> I'm going in for a surgery this Thursday, meaning that I will be on pretty heavy pain meds afterwards and will not be coherent enough to write or post, haha. If possible I'm going to try to write some more to post on Wednesday, but if that doesn't happen I'll get another chapter up when I'm feeling better. I generally don't like pain meds so I'm going to try to wean myself off them as soon as possible, but I'm not quite sure on my timeline. Anyways, please just bear with me!
> 
> xoxo Louise


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thanks for being patient with me. Recovery has been a lot slower than I've anticipated, and while I'm off pain meds I'm having a hard time finding the energy to bang out quality fic, hence the longer wait on a kind of short chapter.
> 
> my tumblr url is clarkesmech, feel free to join me over there!

“Raven?” Clarke knocked for the second time on her friend’s apartment door with her heel, her hands full of sick-day goodies. She had sent Raven a text ten or so minutes ago saying she was on her way, but she had gotten no response — an oddity from Raven. _She’s probably asleep._

Clarke was about to give up and come back later when she heard movement on the other side of the door. It opened, however, not to Raven, but to a tawny-curled man with kind eyes and a dubious-looking mustache.

“Oh! Oh,” Clarke fumbled, immediately flustered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“It’s fine,” the man interrupted her with a disarming smile. “She’s been sleeping most of the day, but she’s starting to wake up now. Come on in.” He stepped aside, and Clarke slid by him. “I’m Kyle, by the way.” He offered her his hand, which she took once she’d set her bags on the kitchen counter. His grip was firm and callused: clearly a man who didn’t sit behind a desk all day.

“Clarke,” she offered. He smiled, a quick and dazzling flicker, and laughed.

“I figured. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He made a face. “Crap, that sounded creepy, didn’t it?”

Clarke grinned. “It’s okay, likewise. Although I didn’t know your first name until Bellamy told me.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kyle rubbed his hand through his hair, looking bashful. 

“Clarke! When did you get here?” Raven was standing in the doorway from the kitchen to the living room, her brace half-strapped on and a patchwork quilt wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. Clarke felt a tiny pang when she recognized it as Raven’s mom’s work, before she had passed away.

“Just now.” Kyle pulled Raven to him with one arm, to her protests, and dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Hmm, you don’t feel feverish any more.”

“How are you feeling?” Clarke asked. Raven looked like crap — she was pale, hollow-eyed, and barefooted, dressed in sweatpants rolled three times over at the waist — but Clarke wasn’t about to tell her that in front of her new mysterious boyfriend. _Who has apparently been spending the day taking care of her. Aww._

“Better, but not great.” Raven shrugged. “I tried to eat some crackers but they were stale.”

“Well then you’re lucky you have the _best_ best-friend ever,” Clarke said, and indicated the bags on the counter with a dramatic gesture. “I brought crackers! And soup and Gatorade and such,” she added, glancing over and trying to remember what she’d picked up on the way over here.

Raven literally moaned. “Clarke Griffin, you are a _godsend_ , and I would hug you if I wasn’t all sweaty and sick.” She blew her a kiss instead — which Clarke “caught” and pressed to her heart with a giggle — and went to investigate the goodies.

“This was really kind of you, Clarke,” Kyle said, sending her a grateful glance as he checked out a can of soup. “What is ‘Gluten-Free Café?’”

“Only the best soup _ever_ ,” Raven declared reverently, hugging a package of Almond Thins to her chest. “You are actually my only friend who would bring me a shit-ton of gluten-free stuff without complaining about it.”

“Whole Foods has it all,” Clarke replied, but she was smiling. “I’m just glad you finished the puking stage before I got here.”

“Me too, God.” Raven had opened the crackers and was happily munching away. Kyle picked up the box and inspected it, then put it back with a shrug.

“All right, babe, well I have to get to work.” He ruffled her hair affectionately and turned to Clarke. “Clarke, it was really nice to meet you.”

“Same to you, Kyle,” Clarke replied, ignoring Raven’s muttered “ _Kyle?_ ”. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“I’m sick, not in a _coma_ ,” Raven grumped, but let Kyle hug her goodbye before he headed back out the door.

“Want me to heat up some soup for you?” Clarke asked. She stashed the plastic bags in the tiny drawer under Raven’s stove and got to work putting away the various goodies she had picked up.

“Nah, I think I’ll stick with crackers for now. Don’t want to tempt fate,” Raven said. She was stacking the almond thins in the palm of her hand like quarters.

“Good.” Clarke whirled on her. “So you can tell me about this _boyfriend_ who I have just now met, after you have been dating him for _how many months?_ ”

Raven blanched and mumbled around a mouthful of crackers. She swallowed and tried again. “Yeahhhh, about that.” She tried a smile. “Sooo that’s him!”

“How did you meet?” Clarke propped her elbows up on the counter and leveled a stare across the kitchen island at Raven, who was looking very much like she wanted to run for cover. 

“In class,” Raven shot back.

“What class?” Clarke grinned as Raven let out a huff of frustration. “I can keep this up all day, Reyes.”

“Fine.” Raven rolled her eyes. “We were in a chemical engineering lab together. I stopped him from blowing up the entire building one day, so we started working as lab partners.” Her gaze had gone soft and tender, and she glanced down at the floor. “He’s sweet, and smart.”

“And cute,” Clarke added, and Raven choked on a laugh.

“And cute. And good in bed too,” Raven put in wickedly, cackling as Clarke groaned and covered her ears.

“TMI, chica.” Clarke stole a cracker from Raven and bit into it curiously. Not half bad. “Why doesn’t he hang out with us more?”

“He works a lot,” Raven shrugged. “Paying his way through his sixth year in undergrad. He’s had to go part-time for financial reasons once or twice.”

“And you’re embarrassed to be dating someone who’s actually a decent guy,” Clarke said flatly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Raven had a history of messing around with Bad Boys(TM) until someone (usually Clarke or Bellamy) kicked sense into her and she broke up with her latest man with a motorcycle or a misdemeanor charge. Raven flushed.

“Well yeah, that too.” Raven flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and began braiding the ends of it. “What about you? Was your sushi date with Lexa today?”

“Actually yes,” Clarke admitted, raising her voice over Raven’s triumphant “I knew it!” to add, “It was bubble tea, and it wasn’t a date.”

“Aw, really? Bummer.” She went back to braiding. “So are y’all taking it slow-like-molasses or are you not interested or what?”

“It’s…complicated.” Clarke bit down on her lip. Raven seemed to recognize the heavy silence as a space for her to gather her thoughts and remained quiet. “She has a history that makes it…hard for her to get close to people.”

“Well I could have told you that,” Raven started, but swallowed her words as Clarke flashed her a glare. “What?”

“I’m serious, Rae,” Clarke said softly. “ _It’s_ serious. Her last girlfriend killed herself.”

Raven whistled, long and low. “Damn. That’s heavy.”

“Yeah.” Clarke picked up a cracker from the countertop and began to methodically break it into pieces. “So I don’t know what’s going to happen there.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah.” And Clarke couldn’t keep her lips from curving up into a smile as she pictured Lexa on Raven’s balcony drinking her beer, Lexa fidgeting adorably with her straw at the sushi place, Lexa’s lips on hers. “We…said we’d just be friends first though, until she’s ready.”

Raven sighed. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to get you into something tricky, I just thought y’all would hit it off.”

“We have, and I’m thankful for you, don’t get me wrong.” The cracker couldn’t go any smaller, and Clarke swept the crumbs into the sink. “It’s just hard.”

Raven gave a soft, sympathetic hum and leaned her head against Clarke’s.

—

Two hours later, Bellamy showed up at her door.

“Uh, hi,” Clarke greeted him, confused. It was close to 10pm by now. “Did we have — ”

“Raven texted me,” he said, and she let him in.

“What did she say?”

“That you were in a bit of a pickle and needed someone to talk to,” Bellamy said simply, toeing off his shoes at the door. Clarke made a mental note to bake Raven some cookies once she was feeling better.

“Raven’s the best,” she sighed, and stepped forward to wrap her arms around Bellamy. He was warm, solid, and familiar, and probably one of her favorite people in the world to hug. Today he smelled faintly like aftershave, which Clarke usually hated, but on Bellamy it tended to blend into his worn t-shirts and chin stubble.

“So how are you doing?” Bellamy asked, his voice coming from somewhere in her hair.

“I’ll be better in a second,” she mumbled back, and she felt the rumble of his laugh where their chests were pressed together.

When she released him, they moved to her small living room, where Clarke curled up against the edge of her couch and Bellamy sat opposite from her.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Clarke asked.

“Nah.” Bellamy wriggled out of his jacket and tossed it to the side of the couch. “So tell me the scenario with Lexa again? Raven wasn’t super specific.”

So Clarke laid out the events that had transpired on their date — was it really only earlier today? It felt like a lifetime ago — and Bellamy listened quietly, though his eyes tightened at the end when Clarke revealed Lexa’s big secret.

“Are you sure it’s okay that you’re telling us this?” He asked.

Clarke bit her lip. “I mean, I wouldn’t tell anyone else,” she said, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Clarke, Lexa’s a very private person. She’d probably be really uncomfortable if she knew that Raven and I knew this about her.”

“I know,” Clarke said, although to be truthful she hadn’t really thought past the initial panic and confusion that had pushed her to open up to Raven this afternoon. And honestly she might not have said anything to Raven in the first place if she hadn’t dropped by to bring soup. This whole mess was beginning to make her feel like she couldn’t do anything right, and that stomach-pitting thought made her squeeze her eyes shut against the beginnings of tears.

“But…you’ve told me now, so we might as well move forward,” Bellamy continued, and Clarke felt him shifting uncomfortably on the couch. She opened her eyes and drew her knuckles roughly under them, sniffing.

“I’m fine,” she said, when he looked her way. “Just…frustrated.”

“It is tough,” Bellamy agreed. “I think you’re doing the right thing though, just waiting things out. I’m sure she really appreciates that.”

“Yeah.” Clarke rearranged her legs so that her feet were tucked beneath her. She wasn’t entirely sure why Raven had sent Bellamy to talk to her. Bellamy wasn’t exactly the ‘talking’ type, he was more of the ‘drink solidly by your side’ type. Although it had been a long day, Clarke didn’t want to end it by getting wasted.

Bellamy seemed to sense her reticence and cleared his throat before getting to his feet. “Anyways, I don’t need to stay. I just wanted to check in and see what was up.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said, and meant it. She got another hug from him before showing him out, and leaned back against the inside of her front door with a sigh.

Clarke Griffin (10:15pm): Stop sending me people.  
Raven Reyes (10:16pm): Aw, was Bellamy not helpful? Sorry about that  
Raven Reyes (10:16pm): I feel like my hands are tied and it makes me grouchy  
Raven Reyes (10:16pm): I want to be there for my Clarkey :(  
Clarke Griffin (10:17pm): Haha, he’s fine, I’m just tired.

Her phone beeped with another message, and she flipped to the different window.

Lexa Woods (10:18pm): Are you doing okay?  
Clarke Griffin (10:19pm): I feel like I should be asking you that, haha.  
Clarke Griffin (10:20pm): Totally fine, I swear. I had a really nice time with you today, regardless.  
Clarke Griffin (10:20pm): Are you okay?  
Lexa Woods (10:21pm): I think so.

She flipped back to Raven’s texts.

Clarke Griffin (10:22pm): How are you feeling?  
Raven Reyes (10:22pm): Okay I guess  
Raven Reyes (10:22pm): About the same  
Clarke Griffin (10:23pm): Is Kyle still there? ;)  
Raven Reyes (10:26pm): Oh ha ha, you  
Raven Reyes (10:27pm): No comment on that one.

Clarke was about to sign off for the night when she had a thought.

Clarke Griffin (10:30pm): Hey, can I come by band practice tomorrow if you’re having it?  
Raven Reyes (10:37pm): Yeah you’re always welcome  
Raven Reyes (10:37pm): I think Wells said he was going to come too  
Raven Reyes (10:38pm): Why, you trying to see your girl? ;)  
Clarke Griffin (10:38pm): Mayyyyyyybeeeee  
Raven Reyes (10:39pm): Heehee, little stinker. I like that you’re not giving up!  
Raven Reyes (10:40pm): Stop by at like 7  
Clarke Griffin (10:41pm): Perfect :) Ok I need to sleep now.  
Clarke Griffin (10:41pm): Nighty-night Rae!  
Raven Reyes (10:43pm): Sleep tight cutie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am forever bitter that I cannot type emojis into my story. Raven uses many of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke meets Anya, and she and Lexa make out at a frat party. That's about it.

Clarke showed up at Wells’ apartment this time at a couple of minutes to seven, rocking on her heels until he closed and locked the door behind them.

“We’re gonna be late,” she grumbled at him, and he clicked his tongue.

“It’s band practice, not a dinner reservation.” He chuckled. “Although according to Octavia, it sounds like you’ve got someone to impress.”

“I am going to kill her,” Clarke deadpanned, and sped up enough that Wells had to jog a couple of steps to stay even with her.

“She didn’t say much, just that you and Lexa had been making moon-eyes at each other at Raven’s.”

“I’m surprised she even _remembers_ Raven’s. I lost track of how many drinks she had.”

“She did send a couple of entertaining Snapchats.” Wells paused. “So about Lexa…”

Clarke huffed. “There’s nothing to say. We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

“Just friends,” Clarke confirmed, although it hurt her heart a little to say so. But Clarke Griffin will not be a slave to her hormones, and she knows that some things are worth waiting for. And until then, mental images of Lexa’s hair under the stage lights and the memory of their kiss will have to stay firmly under lock and key.

When they got to the music building, they could hear the strains of electric guitar all the way down the hall of practice rooms, and it was like approaching the source of a siren, where as they closed in the sound grew louder and higher in pitch. By the time they got to the classroom at the end of the hallway, Clarke wanted to cover her ears. Beside her, Wells was making a face.

“That isn’t pretty,” he mouthed, or something like that, and Clarke let them in.

Part of the weird acoustics may have been due to the set-up of the room. It appeared to be generally in use for choir rehearsals, meaning that Ground Control had had to shove thirty or so folding chairs out of the way to fit Lexa’s drums and the amps for Bellamy and Lincoln. 

(And how did they get a drum set to this room to begin with? Did Lexa carry her drums around in the back of her car? Did they steal one from another practice room? Clarke needed to know.)

Raven waved at them from her seat by the door, her bum leg stretched to the side, and Wells and Clarke joined her.

“Feeling better?” Clarke asked, putting her mouth next to Raven’s ear to communicate over the drums and thrumming bassline. Bellamy and Lincoln stood to either side of Octavia, who was singing into a wireless mic that couldn’t quite keep up with the other competing sounds. Clarke thought she recognized the lyrics of The Killer’s “Mr. Brightside” but wasn’t quite sure. And in the back, Lexa’s gaze was focused as she alternated between the…larger and smaller drums. _Maybe I should learn something about drums if we’re going to be friends._

Raven shrugged, did a little “mostly” hand wiggle, and leaned in close to Clarke. “Thanks for the soup, by the way!”

Clarke just grinned in response and nudged her shoulder against Raven, who nudged her back, harder of course. The two of them were working their way into a veritable shoving match when Bellamy yelled something and the music died off, Lexa’s drumbeats last of all.

“I don’t like it,” Bellamy grumbled to the group, lacing his hands behind his head. “And I don’t know why.”

“Too much bass?” Lincoln asked sheepishly.

“I couldn’t hear myself singing,” Octavia complained, shooting a Look over at Raven, who held up her hands defensively.

“It’s not my fault you sing like a fucking sparrow, O,” Raven called back. “You’ve gotta use your diaphragm, or something.”

There was a rattle as Lexa set her drumsticks down. “I think I came in a little too heavy at the beginning,” she put in. “I can try to ease off next time.”

“What if we make it a ballad instead of a rock piece?” Raven suggested, struggling a little bit to get both her feet under her. Wells made as if to give her a hand, but Clarke mouthed “Don’t.” Raven had had the brace for several years now and could manage perfectly well 98% of the time, but even during the other 2% she made it clear that she would rather chew off her own arm than accept help, from most people. Clarke had aided her once or twice when the other girl was drunk, and she’d seen Bellamy offer an arm without getting snapped at, but generally Raven acted a bit like a wounded animal. 

“I’d like to try it as a ballad,” Lexa commented from the back. Clarke caught her eye and waved, and the other girl waved back shyly, looking a little surprised. 

Bellamy rolled his shoulders and sighed. “Fine, let’s try it as a ballad then. Rae, can you help me with my amp? It’s making weird squeaking noises.”

Now on her feet, Raven made her way over to Bellamy, limping a little bit from sitting for so long. “Only squeaking I hear is from Octavia,” she teased, and Octavia stuck her tongue out at her.

Practice only lasted half an hour or so longer, and Clarke and Wells entertained themselves by making faces at Octavia and trying to make her laugh while she was singing. They succeeded more often than not, but Bellamy seemed to have accepted tonight’s practice as a wash anyways and was sighing broodily between riffs.

Kyle sidled in as the group was packing up and joined Clarke and Wells. “Are you guys coming to dinner after this?” He asked, watching as Raven bustled around taking care of various electrical things. He was a perfect gentleman, Clarke noticed, and his eyes lingered an appropriate amount when Raven bent over to yank a plug from an outlet. If only he didn’t have that creepy looking mustache. She made a mental note to ask Raven if she was into that sort of thing.

“We already ate,” Wells answered for both of them. It _was_ almost eight. Clarke got hungry at like six and generally couldn’t be delayed. 

Kyle shrugged. “Fair enough. You’re welcome to just come for drinks though.”

“Clarke?” 

Clarke spun around to see Lexa standing nearby, hands twined in front of her. She wore a tattered leather jacket over dark jeans and a loose black tank top, and her dark hair was pulled back by a tattered brown kerchief. “Hi,” Lexa said, smiling shyly.

“Hi!” Clarke grinned. She wanted to step forward and wrap her arms around Lexa’s slim shoulders, but she wasn’t sure if that was over the ‘just friends’ line they’d drawn in the sand. She and Raven hugged all the time, but they had also known each other for half of Clarke’s life.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” Lexa fiddled with a piece of hair that had come loose from her kerchief. “Kind of a sucky practice, sorry. Bellamy was pissed.”

“Bellamy’s always pissed about something,” Clarke lied, and was happy to see Lexa’s expression soften a little in response. “I thought you guys sounded good.”

“Thanks.” Lexa couldn’t seem to decide where to focus her eyes, and they flicked around from Clarke’s shoes to her lips and then over her shoulder to something behind her. Finally, she met Clarke’s gaze. “Hey, so my friend is having a party tonight, and I wondered if you wanted to come?”

“Yeah?” Clarke glanced over at Wells, who was in conversation with Kyle. 

“Wells can come too,” Lexa said quickly. “It’s nothing formal. I just didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

“I think I could handle a party,” Clarke replied, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a crooked half-smile. “And Wells generally doesn’t need a lot of convincing.”

It turned out, however, that Wells had decided to join Kyle, Raven, and the rest of the band for dinner and drinks, leaving Clarke and Lexa to head to the party on their own.

“Am I dressed okay?” Clarke asked, glancing self-consciously down at herself. Like Lexa, she was dressed in dark jeans and a loose tank top, although hers was a pale blue that Raven always said made her eyes like awesome. 

“Yeah.” Lexa smiled at her, and Clarke tried to ignore the funny feeling it gave her in the pit of her stomach.

“Great.” Clarke returned the smile. “Let’s go then.”

The party was off-campus at a house that Lexa said belonged to her friend Anya - “Lincoln and I grew up with her, she’s basically the older sister I never had” — and by the time the girls got there it was already packed. Clarke recognized a few girls from the Ultimate Frisbee team and one or two that she knew played rugby, but she couldn’t really figure out what everyone in attendance had in common.

When she said as much to Lexa, Lexa laughed and said, “Anya. She’s on like three club sports teams, so her parties always get a little,” she paused and shrugged, “wild.”

“Is it weird that I don’t know Anya?” Clarke asked. She and Lexa were hugging the wall in a small hallway off the living room where everyone seemed to be leaving jackets and other miscellaneous items, and Clarke was feeling a little bit like a sore thumb.

“It’s fine, I swear,” Lexa said, looking Clarke dead in the eyes. They were close enough that Clarke could see little flecks of brown in Lexa’s grey-green irises, and she felt her stomach twist again. “You’re with me.” Lexa reached down and took her hand, not helping the swarm of butterflies that seemed to have moved into her digestive tract. _Aggressively head-banging butterflies_ , she added as Lexa led her towards the kitchen and Clarke tried not to think about how natural it felt with their fingers laced together. 

The kitchen was like twenty degrees hotter than it was outside, and Clarke was congratulating herself on the choice of a tank top as she tried to keep her shoes from permanently adhering to the already beer-sticky floor. She wedged herself into a free corner by the sink as Lexa disappeared to get them drinks and pulled out her phone.

Raven Reyes (8:45pm): Where’d you go?

Octavia Blake (8:51pm): Lincoln said you’re at 1 of anya’s parties…hahahaha have fun with that  
Octavia Blake (8:51pm): I’ve been to 2 and can’t remember either of them

Clarke sent updates to both of her friends and checked her snapchat (two from Wells, one of a dark and gross-looking beer and one of him and Raven making duck faces) before Lexa found her again.

“Here.” She offered her a red solo cup full of…something, and Clarke sniffed it suspiciously.

“Do I want to ask what’s in this?”

“Probably not,” Lexa replied frankly, but took a sip anyways. She wrinkled her nose at the taste, and Clarke’s toes curled in her shoes with how darn cute it was. Okay, she had to get over this weird fixation with Lexa, she scolded herself. She was off-limits until otherwise indicated, which meant she had to rein in her hormones and find someone else to think about amorously.

Gotta start somewhere. “Bottoms up,” she quipped, and took a long drink of the fruity-smelling mixture. It had definitely been “flavored” with vodka, and she choked a little at the sudden burn. When she resurfaced, Lexa was grinning at her.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Clarke grumped, and stuck her tongue out at Lexa, who, like an adult, reciprocated. 

“Little Lex!”

Clarke looked up as a woman with dirty blonde hair wrapped her arm around Lexa’s shoulder and pulled her into a rough hug. She was taller than Lexa by a couple of inches, and her body was strong and athletic-looking. Lexa was protesting the noogie she was now getting and wrestled her way out of the woman’s grasp. This had to be Anya. How many other athletic women was Lexa on physical-contact terms with? (Not that Clarke felt threatened or anything. Even though this woman looked like she could break her arm with one hand.)

“This is Anya,” Lexa laughed, leaning happily into the other girl’s side. “Anya, this is my friend Clarke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Anya said, but didn’t offer her hand, and her gaze wasn’t exactly friendly. Clarke felt like she was being checked out, and not in the good kind of way. Maybe this was the awkward “touch her and I’ll kill you” moment that always tended to happen with older sibling figures.

“Clarke is good friends with Raven and Bellamy,” Lexa continued.

“I like your house,” Clarke offered, raising her voice to be heard over the clamor of the kitchen.

“It’s not usually this trashed,” Anya replied, exchanging a look with Lexa. “I do know how to housekeep.”

“Occasionally,” Lexa teased her, and ducked out of the way as Anya went for another noogie. The taller girl sighed and pressed a kiss to her cheek instead.

“All right, kids, enjoy the party,” Anya said, fixing Clarke once more with a piercing gaze before vanishing into the throng. 

“She’s…” Clarke tried, and swallowed.

“A little intense, I know,” Lexa finished, her eyes wide and a little nervous. “I swear she lightens up a little bit once you get to know her, though.”

“I felt like she was going to threaten me with a shotgun if I despoiled your virtue or something,” Clarke said, only half joking. Lexa just snorted, but she didn’t tell Clarke that she was wrong. Clarke made a mental note that whatever her relationship became with Lexa, she needed to stay on Anya’s good side.

“Do you want another drink? I think I heard something about shots going on in the basement,” Lexa said. 

Clarke perked up. “I’m always up for shots. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

She and Lexa indeed found the group doing shots, who welcomed them to the table by hoisting lime wedges and yelling “SHOOOOOOOTS” before shoving glasses into their hands and patting them encouragingly on the backs. After a couple of those, everything was now slightly tequila-fuzzy, and Clarke was snapped out of her fascinated examination of the peeling tape on the beer pong table by Lexa.

“I love shots,” she giggled, her mouth so close to Clarke’s ear that Clarke could feel the warmth of her breath. It tickled, in more places than one, and it took serious self-control to keep from flipping around and kissing Lexa right then and there. Instead she just responded with a hum and let her head fall onto Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa petted her hair obligingly for a moment before getting bored.

“Are you any good at beer pong?” She asked, her voice loud at such close range, and Clarke shrugged.

“Raven is better,” she said. “She’s really good and always gets the rest of us wasted.”

“I’m good too,” Lexa insisted. She took Clarke’s hand for the second time this evening and clasped it gravely to her chest. “Let’s play!”

They found themselves up against a couple who had decided, to Clarke’s disgust, to give each other a kiss each time they landed a ball into a cup on Lexa and Clarke’s side. The kissing seemed to provide extra motivation of some sorts, because Clarke and Lexa were losing, badly.

“I hate beer!” Clarke said loudly, making a disgusted face after chugging another cup of Natty Light. “It’s so gross.”

“Good beer isn’t gross!” Lexa insisted. “But this isn’t good beer.”

“No, it’s not.” Clarke groaned as the opposing team sank another ball. “You have to drink this one.”

Lexa whipped around to face Clarke, mischief sparkling in her eyes and a smirk starting on her lips. “Kiss me for luck,” she said, and even though the basement was as loud as all hell, Clarke heard her clear as a bell. And she wasn’t quite sure what to think.

“Are you sure?” She hedged, not quite wanting to bring up the platonic clause of their friendship and ruin the moment, but also not wanting Lexa to do something she might regret.

Lexa nodded firmly. “I’m sure.” She even batted her eyelashes at Clarke, which just about made her melt into a puddle in the soles of her cheap-yet-fashionable shoes.

Well, who was Clarke to turn down a pretty lady? Obediently, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Lexa’s, intending to behave and make it a chaste kiss. Lexa, however, had other ideas. She opened her lips to Clarke’s and immediately felt out with her tongue, teasing gently at Clarke’s. Clarke inhaled, startled, but didn’t pull away. Lexa ended the kiss with a soft peck.

“Now we can’t lose,” she said, her voice low and sultry, and it went straight to Clarke’s core. Clarke swallowed, licking absently at her lips.

“Right,” she said.

The game continued, and despite the kiss Clarke and Lexa lost quickly. The couple at the other end of the table cheered and moved in for a celebratory kiss of their own. Lexa let out a disappointed sigh and flopped back against the wall behind them.

“Sorry I suck,” Clarke said. “I need Raven to teach me her skills.”

“It’s all physics,” Lexa said, waving her hand dismissively. “Which I happen to be awful at.”

“Same.” Head spinning, Clarke leaned against the rough plaster beside her, trying to ignore that the butterflies in her stomach had started a rave of their own. If it was always going to be like this around Lexa, she was going to have to look into antacids or something.

“What?” Lexa had said something, and she had missed it.

Lexa just smiled. “I said you’re really cute when you’re drunk.”

“‘M not drunk,” Clarke insisted, but she was flushing, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol.

“Can I kiss you again?” Lexa had that low and sexy voice going on again, and Clarke’s heart sped up.

“If —”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Lexa cut her off, voice sharp with irritation. When Clarke blinked next, Lexa had repositioned herself, and as she moved forward into Clarke’s space, Clarke was backing herself into the corner of the basement.

“Stop asking me if I want this,” Lexa continued, her eyes dark and so, so close to Clarke’s. Clarke swallowed as her back hit the wall, her clothes sticking against the brick. But Lexa kept coming until her breasts brushed Clarke’s, and then she was kissing her with such force that Clarke sighed with surprise against her lips.

“Lexa,” she whispered, voice cracking as the other girl’s lips left hers and began to move down her jaw. Clarke tilted her head back to give her better access as Lexa continued down her neck, kissing softly until she reached her collarbone, and then stroking her tongue back up. Clarke was trembling with desire now, and she could feel Lexa grinning in triumph as the girl reached her earlobe and bit down.

Clarke jumped as Lexa’s teeth met flesh, and when Lexa jumped too she used the pause to push back and regain some ground. It was Lexa’s turn to have Clarke’s lips on her neck, and Clarke reveled in the feeling of warm, smooth skin beneath her tongue. Lexa sighed under her touch, and her hands settled on Clarke’s lower back, fingers creeping up beneath the hem of her tank top. Clarke shivered and moved back up to Lexa’s lips.

“You’re really good at this,” she whispered into the kiss, and Lexa smiled.

“You’re not bad yourself,” she hummed back. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the bookstore.”

“Me too,” Clarke sighed, and gritted her teeth together as Lexa’s hands slid around to her stomach and began to creep up her waist. The shock of Lexa’s cool hands on her skin snapped her out of her alcohol-induced lapse in inhibitions, and with a sinking feeling of dread she put her hands on Lexa’s shoulders and pushed her gently away.

Lexa sighed. “And here I thought we were having fun,” she pouted, her full lips just begging for Clarke to move back in for more kisses.

“We were, I just…” Clarke bit her own lip. “I don’t want to do this drunk. I want you to know for sure that you want it.”

“I’m not drunk,” Lexa argued, but Clarke shook her head, fighting every part of her that wanted to say “fuck it” and slam Lexa against the wall this time.

“We’ve both been drinking,” she said. “I guess I don’t feel comfortable doing this until I know for sure that you’re ready.”

Lexa was still pouting, but her eyes softened. “Fine,” she said, and Clarke thought she heard wistfulness in her tone. “But only because you’re the most perfect damn gentleman.”

“Gentle _lady_ ,” Clarke teased, but she gave a mental sigh of relief as Lexa conceded the point. There would be more time to kiss and such, if Lexa truly had changed her mind, and Clarke could wait if it meant that both parties were fully on board. 

She checked her watch and groaned. “I should probably head home,” she said. “I’ve got a study group in the morning.”

“Yeah, I should probably go too.” Lexa stepped back out of Clarke’s space into a more platonic personal bubble, and Clarke felt the loss of her warmth like a physical ache. “Do you want a ride home? Lincoln was going to pick me up, and I’m sure he can drop you off too.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

—

On the way home, Clarke texted Raven.

Clarke Griffin (11:45pm): It’s hard to take the high road  
Clarke Griffin (11:46pm): Kick me in the fucking face next time I want to be chivalrous  
Raven Reyes (11:47pm): Ooh, I sense a story!  
Raven Reyes (11:47pm): Call me? We’re back from dinner and stuff.  
Clarke Griffin (11:48pm): Lincoln’s driving me home from the party, maybe in a bit.  
Raven Reyes (11:49pm): If it’s more than ten minutes I will likely be asleep  
Raven Reyes (11:49pm): Text me the gory deets and I’ll shriek at you excitedly in the morning or whatevs  
Clarke Griffin (11:50pm): kk

Once she was back at her building, she said goodbye to Lincoln (and Lexa) and made her way slowly up the stairs to her apartment. Her head was spinning, and she had to stop once or twice to take deep breaths to fight off swells of nausea. _Great, Griffin. That’s what you get for mixing your alcohol._

True to form, she made it back to her apartment just in time to vomit into the kitchen sink, where she remained for several long minutes until she felt like she could make it to the shower without falling over.

After a shower she felt slightly more human, though not so much more sober, and she texted Raven a brief summary of the party before crawling into her bed and falling asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously the Mon/Thurs scheduling isn't working out quite like I'd planned, but having a vague outline for myself makes me at least want to write more. That being said, I'm heading to the beach for a couple of days so it might be closer to a week before the next chapter is up. Thanks for your continued support! Check me out on tumblr @ clarkesmech.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awkward morning-after conversation. Also sex happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with this story, friends. I just moved to a new city and am getting ready to start graduate school, but my goal is to finish this story up before my life gets eaten up by research and TAing. Much love to my buddy spacerats who kept nudging at me to write, as well as Katie for beta-ing, especially since she doesn't know the show at all.

There was a reason Clarke didn’t usually drink on weeknights, and the hangover was at least 75% of it. With her bleary gaze on the ceiling, she groped around for her alarm and smacked it until it turned off. 

“Fuck,” she moaned. Her throat felt like she had choked down a mouthful of gravel, and her head was pounding. Even worse, after snoozing her alarm a few times there was no way she’d be able to shower before class. 

She was dragging her tangled hair back into a rough ponytail when she checked her phone for the first time. There were several text messages from Raven. 

**Raven Reyes (7:55am):** o  
**Raven Reyes (7:55am):** m  
**Raven Reyes (7:55am):** g  
**Raven Reyes (7:57am):** you’re kidding me.

It was too early for this. Clarke rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand and glanced back over her conversation with Raven. There, a little after midnight, was a text that Clarke didn’t exactly remember sending.

 **Clarke Griffin (12:10pm):** Yeah so lexa’s friend anya is really scary. also i suck at beer pong and you need to teach me physics. and then we made out. turns out she’s a biter.

Sighing, Clarke put her phone to the side and splashed some cold water on her face, hoping it would help with the throbbing setting in behind her forehead. She could text Raven back later — now, she had to get to class.

Class - a 9am biochemistry recitation - was one of the more miserable hours she’d ever endured. The TA was just plain boring on the best of days, and utterly soporific on days like today when Clarke’s entire body was complaining her departure from her bed. Her headache wouldn’t even let her nap, so she was doomed to stare vacantly at the board for fifty-five minutes. By the time class dismissed, Clarke was already planning an Advil and a two hour siesta.

When she stumbled out of her lecture hall, she was surprised to see a familiar face — waiting with coffee. Clarke’s eyes lit up.

“Raven Reyes, you are a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted her with a hug, careful not to jostle the to-go cups in her friend’s hands. 

Raven shrugged, fighting a grin. “Flattery will generally get you nowhere, Griffin.” She offered the to-go cup with a big “VL” scrawled in Sharpie on the side. “But today it will, however, get you a vanilla latte, fresh the from campus Starbucks.”

Clarke burned her tongue on the first sip, but it was hot and foamy and _caffeinated_ , and she moaned in pleasure. Raven snorted.

“Did you make those sounds last night?” She teased, brown eyes flashing, and Clarke aimed a kick at her shin.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you brought me coffee.”

“Well, when you didn’t respond to my text I figured you were either sleeping in or had gone to class.” Raven shrugged. “And seeing as you’re, you know, _you_ , I made an educated guess.”

“I’ll consider this your payback for the soup,” Clarke said, taking another glorious sip of vanilla goodness. She knew it was probably placebo, but she could already feel the caffeine chipping away at her headache. The power of coffee was real.

Raven cleared her throat. “So you, uh, got a little action last night, then?”

Clarke glanced carefully at their surroundings. They had left the academic building and were crossing the lawn stretched behind the science building, so no one was close enough to eavesdrop. Although, Clarke reasoned mentally, it wasn’t like she and Lexa had been all that subtle last night.

She rehashed the situation for Raven, who oohed and ahhed at all the right places like a good friend, and even gave Clarke a high five when she got to the kissing part.

“ _That’s_ my girl,” she said, adding a bit of a skip to her step (as much as she could with half of her leg wrapped in metal). Clarke found her best friend’s grin to be contagious, and she gave a little happy sigh.

“It was…nice,” Clarke admitted. “And I really don’t think it’s just because I was drunk.”

“‘Course not. You’ve kissed before, right?” She nodded. “So the fireworks are real.”

“I guess.” Clarke paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “I haven’t heard from her.”

“Dude, it’s like ten AM.” Raven shot her a look. “She’s likely still asleep.”

“Yeah.” Clarke glanced absently up the path in front of them and stopped dead. “…Or not.”

“What?” Raven looked back at her, then followed her gaze to the slight figure making her way down the sidewalk towards them. “…Oh.”

Lexa raised a hand in a shy wave, which Clarke mirrored. “Am I blushing, Rae? I feel like I’m blushing,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

“No, but you look like you’re about to pass out,” Raven commented lightly. “Take a breath, Griffin.”

Clarke obeyed, willing her heart rate to slow. Lexa was close enough now for Clarke to see the circles smudged beneath her eyes. Clarke remembered again that she had not had time to shower or put on makeup of her own this morning, and she tried to smile with confidence. “Hi, Lexa.”

“Good morning,” Lexa said politely. “And hello, Raven.”

“Hey.” Raven shot Clarke a quick glance. “Listen, I’ve gotta run, Clarke, but text me later?”

Clarke’s eyes widened, and she tried to convey “ _please don’t leave me_ ” to Raven, who ignored her and waved a cheery goodbye, leaving Lexa and Clarke standing alone in the middle of the sidewalk.

There was silence as Raven’s footsteps faded, and Clarke swallowed the thick feeling of awkwardness swelling in her throat. “How are you?”

“Okay,” Lexa replied, her tone giving nothing away. Her eyes, however, seemed a little softer, but when Clarke blinked they were distant again. “You?”

“Hungover,” Clarke said, trying for a joking grimace. Lexa gave her a small flicker of a smile.

“Yeah,” she said softly, dropping her gaze to the ground. Clarke clenched her fists into the hems of her shorts. _So this is the end of it, then._

However, Lexa’s eyes flicked up to Clarke’s again. “Listen, Clarke,” she started, her voice so quiet Clarke had to hold her breath to hear her. “About last night…”

She didn’t want to hear this. Clarke held up her hand to stop Lexa’s words. “It’s fine, Lexa, don’t worry about it,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Lexa swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a little stronger. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it, it’s just…” ( _Of course you enjoyed it, you_ started _it_ , Clarke griped mentally) “…it was just faster than I meant to go.”

“I understand,” Clarke said instead, striving for a neutral tone. On an impulse, she reached out and touched Lexa on the shoulder. “I won’t get any ideas.” She let a tiny smile slip in, and Lexa mirrored it with one of her own.

“Okay.”

They both took deep breaths, and Clarke tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

—

It was a long, long day, and even with the help of Raven’s coffee Clarke was swaying on her feet by the time her lab ended at 3pm. She sent Raven another text thanking her for the caffeine and updating her on the conversation with Lexa, and once she arrived home she curled up on her bed for a well-deserved nap. Unfortunately Raven chose that exact moment to text her back.

 **Raven Reyes (3:23pm):** Aw I’m sorry boo  
**Raven Reyes (3:23pm):** It didn’t sound like a total shut-down though did it?

Clarke flung her arm over her forehead and stared up at the crook of her elbow for a few moments before rousing herself to reply.

 **Clarke Griffin (3:26pm):** I don’t think so. She seemed pretty shy about the whole thing though.  
**Clarke Griffin (3:26pm):** It’s like whiplash with her, I swear.  
**Raven Reyes (3:27pm):** How do you mean?  
**Clarke Griffin (3:29pm):** One minute she’s all “we should just be friends” and then the next she’s shoving her tongue down my throat and then the NEXT she’s saying “sorry we should just be friends” again  
**Clarke Griffin (3:31pm):** It’s making me want to bash my head in  
**Raven Reyes (3:32pm):** Geez, overdramatic much  
**Raven Reyes (3:33pm):** Have you slept yet?  
**Clarke Griffin (3:34pm):** Unfortunately not  
**Raven Reyes (3:34pm):** Then go! Do the sleep. You’ll feel loads better and less like bashing your head in, I swear.  
**Raven Reyes (3:35pm):** Don’t get brains on your sheets, sweetie. They don’t wash out. Or so I’ve heard.  
**Clarke Griffin (3:37pm):** Har de har. Fine. Clarke out.

She switched her phone to silent and wriggled into her covers until she was completely cocooned. It didn’t take long for her fuzzy brain to succumb to exhaustion, and she fell asleep almost instantly. (She dreamed of Lexa, of course. She dreamed of lips that felt like the air after a rainstorm, of twining fingers through her dark curls.)

All too soon, Clarke was pulled from the sweetness of her dreams by someone banging on her door. Half asleep, she untangled herself from her sheets and stumbled towards the sound, mumbling, “I’m coming, hold on.”

She had no idea who was at her door at five in the afternoon. Raven maybe, or Wells. Octavia usually tried to break the door down before knocking like a civilized human being, so it was unlikely to be her. Lack of expectations aside, however, Clarke did not expect to see a familiar brunette waiting when she opened the door.

“Lexa?” She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. Had she ever actually woken up? The Lexa on the other side of her door was all sharp angles and nerves, her arms clasped tightly to her chest and her shoulders drawn towards her ears. 

“Hey,” Lexa said. “Um, sorry, did I wake you up?”

Clarke was suddenly very aware of her sleep-tousled hair, with several strands stuck to her lips, and her rumpled clothing. She looked down and noticed that she was only wearing one sock. When she looked back up, Lexa had followed her gaze and was smiling faintly.

“Maybe,” Clarke admitted, and Lexa’s smile grew. “I was tired, okay?”

“I don’t blame you.” Lexa shifted her weight from one hip to the other. “Last night was late.”

Clarke was still not entirely awake, but the fact that Lexa was at her door and seemed to want to talk about their shared experience last night was a good sign, right? She rubbed at her eyes again and stifled a yawn.

“Come on in, I’ll make some coffee or something.” 

“It’s five in the afternoon, Clarke,” Lexa replied, her tone light and maybe just a little bit teasing. She stepped inside and let Clarke close the door behind her, and Clarke headed to her small kitchen to prepare…something. Maybe it was too late in the day for coffee.

“I also have Diet Coke and water?” She offered, squinting into her refrigerator. Somewhere behind her, Lexa found the light switch for her living room.

“Diet Coke would be great, thanks.”

Clarke pulled two cans from the fridge and poured them over ice, then brought one to Lexa, who was perched somewhat uncomfortably on the edge of her sofa. 

“Thanks.” Lexa wrapped her hands around the Solo cup like she was holding a priceless statue, and Clarke briefly considered poking at her until she revealed why she was here. However, Lexa’s body language was still very closed-off, and after their conversation earlier today Clarke really had no idea what was going on in the other girl’s head. 

Instead, Clarke sighed. “I was having the best dream,” she mumbled, mostly to thaw the silence creeping between them like frost.

“Oh really? About what?”

Damn. “It was complicated,” she balked. “It involved - um - my dad?” Lexa’s lips thinned in sympathy, and Clarke’s heart dropped. Shit, too dark. “But it wasn’t a sad dream,” she added.

“That’s good.” Lexa stared at her cup, expression unreadable. Clarke looked down into her own soda and was contemplating drowning herself in carbonated liquid when Lexa spoke up.

“I wanted to apologize,” she started. Her words were halting but firm, like she’d been rehearsing them. And from what Clarke knew of her, she probably had been. “For being so confusing.” The plastic creaked under her fingers, but she pressed on. “I know I’ve been very back-and-forth, and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to cut me loose.” She gave a small, self-deprecating smile that made Clarke’s heart hurt. 

“I don’t want to cut you loose,” Clarke said quickly. Lexa glanced up, startled, like she had half-forgotten that Clarke was sitting beside her.

“When you kissed me in the bookstore the other day, it surprised me, and my first thought was Costia.” Lexa’s voice tightened on the name, and on impulse Clarke rested her hand on Lexa’s knee. Lexa covered it with her own, fingers light and cool. “And it was a shock, like touching a hot stove or something, but then it was over. Then at the party last night, I realized that it didn’t hurt so much anymore.” She swallowed. “And…I wanted to touch you, but part of me was worried that I was moving too fast, and what would Costia think?”

Clarke didn’t really know what to say, so she hummed softly in what she hoped was sympathy. Lexa’s hand tightened on hers, then released.

“I haven’t even allowed myself to look at anyone like that since she died. I’ve just been going through the motions. Just trying to survive.”

That hit a chord within Clarke, and she cleared her throat to draw Lexa’s attention and gaze.

“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving.” She squeezed her knee. “Don’t we deserve more than that?”

Lexa was silent for a moment, emotions flickering across her face like birds in flight. Then she whispered “Maybe we do,” and leaned in and kissed Clarke.

It was softer than their last make-out session, and Clarke sighed into the feeling of Lexa’s lips brushing gently against her own. Lexa readjusted them after a moment, opening her lips against Clarke’s, and in a fleeting thought Clarke hoped her post-nap breath wasn’t too bad. 

“I like doing this sober better,” Clarke teased, and Lexa chuckled into the kiss, then nipped cautiously at Clarke’s lower lip before stroking it with her tongue. 

Clarke didn’t mind this new development, and she nipped at Lexa’s in return before questing farther with her tongue. The kiss deepened, and Clarke inhaled sharply with the heat growing in her lower abdomen. This was so much more pleasant sober, especially now that she knew that Lexa wanted this. That Lexa wanted _her._

Lexa too seemed to be growing more frisky as they kissed, and she broke away to trace her tongue along Clarke’s collarbone, in a slow, methodical way that made Clarke melt. She whined deep in her throat and tilted her head back, breath coming in short bursts. Lexa grinned. Encouraged, she moved up to where Clarke’s neck met her shoulder and teased with her teeth, pricking at the skin but not enough to bruise. Clarke held her breath for a moment, overwhelmed by feelings of lust, then shoved Lexa back against the arm of the couch with a grin of her own. 

“Pushy,” Lexa whispered admiringly, and raised her chin to find it was Clarke’s turn to pepper her neck with kisses. Her shirt’s collar was too high for Clarke to access her collarbone, and Clarke’s fingers hovered, unsure, before she moved back to kissing Lexa’s lips.

“I can take my shirt off if you want,” Lexa murmured once they’d broken for air, her words hovering in the thick air between their faces.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Clarke whispered back, her eyes dancing between Lexa’s lips, red and kiss-swollen, and her heavy-lidded eyes. 

In response, Lexa reached down and hooked her fingers under the hem of her shirt, arms crossed across her stomach. Slowly, and keeping her eyes on Clarke’s, she drew it up and over her head, revealing a simple black bra and so, so much skin. Clarke knew she was staring, but Lexa’s amused chuckle seemed to indicate that it was okay.

“Come here,” Lexa said, and Clarke obeyed, scooting closer until her breasts brushed against Lexa’s and Lexa gave a hum of pleasure. Clarke leaned down and pressed kisses to the soft hills of Lexa’s breasts, lips warm against her skin and scratching the black fabric of her bra. Lexa’s fingers twined in Clarke’s hair, gently at first and then more firmly as Clarke felt her nipples harden beneath the bra, beneath her lips.

“My turn,” Clarke hummed, and removed her own shirt. Now their skin was touching, their breasts brushing through and around their bras. On impulse, Clarke reached back and undid her own bra, waiting until she had Lexa’s gaze to remove it fully. Lexa’s eyes lingered on Clarke’s exposed nipples, and her brow furrowed.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, and Clarke felt a smile prick at her lips.

“Flattery,” she teased, and took Lexa’s hands before guiding them to her bare breasts. Lexa’s hands were cool on her skin, and a shiver ran up her spine. And then Lexa began to fondle and tease, her fingertips brushing circles around Clarke’s nipples and hardening them before ghosting away. A moan slipped from Clarke’s lips and she tilted her head back, eyes closed.

“Lexa,” she hissed, the heat in her lower stomach rolling insistently. She wanted her, wanted to feel her graceful fingers on her sex and inside her, and she wanted her _now_. Her hand crept down to the waistband of her shorts with that thought, and her eyes snapped open as Lexa’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.

“Let me,” Lexa said, her voice low and sultry. “But first.” She unhooked her own bra and tossed it to the side, then reached down to undo the button and zipper holding Clarke’s shorts in place. Clarke braced herself and raised her hips, allowing Lexa to slide her shorts down her legs. She kicked them off and leaned back against the other arm of the couch, back arching off the blankets as Lexa moved up between her legs and began stroking gentle fingers along the insides of her thighs. 

“Oh,” Clarke said eloquently. Lexa’s breath tickled her skin as the other girl laughed.

“You’re easy to please,” Lexa commented. Her fingers were dancing around the edges of Clarke’s underwear, which was long since soaked through.

“Or maybe you’re just damn good,” Clarke replied breathily, her retort lost as Lexa’s fingers slid beneath the thin cotton and brushed the downy hair of her mound. The touch was like lightning through her veins, raw and electric, and she could have sworn she felt it in every nerve in her body.

“Touch me,” she gasped, her voice cracking in a way that she would have normally found embarrassing, and Lexa chuckled again, deeper than usual. 

“Should we take this back to the bedroom?” She asked calmly, tilting her head like an inquisitive bird, and all for the world like she didn’t have her hand down Clarke’s underwear.

Clarke all but dragged her into the bedroom, tripping over her clothing on the floor — Lexa was still wearing pants and she needed to fix that soon — and lay back against the sheets.

“Someone should paint you like this,” Lexa murmured, and once again positioned herself between Clarke’s legs. She nudged her thighs out wider and cast her a lazy smile. “Shall we resume?”

Clarke just cursed at her, and Lexa threw back her head with a full-throated laugh.

She was gentle but firm, and somewhere through the haze of building arousal Clarke registered that Lexa clearly knew what she was doing. It had been far too long since she herself had had sex, and she found herself shaking in the space before an orgasm a lot sooner than she would have thought possible. Below, Lexa shifted and curled her single finger within her, touching her walls and making her pant in shallow gasps. 

“Oh god, Lexa,” she hissed. “Oh _god_.”

“That’s it, babe,” Lexa said softly, and Clarke looked up through tousled hair to see the other girl with her other hand in her own pants. “Come on, come for me.”

She entered Clarke’s opening with a second finger, and Clarke cried out her name as she felt Lexa's thumb simultaneously brush against her clit. The combination of the pressure there and within her built her arousal to a climax and then burst from her like a falling star, glittering through every inch of her body like tongues of flame. Clarke came with a wordless cry, arching back against the sheets and feeling like she was made of fire and light.

When her vision cleared and her heart rate began to slow, she brushed her hair from her eyes and curled to her side. Lexa still knelt by her knees, her breath coming short and fast in her chest as her hand worked below the waistband of her pants, and Clarke swallowed, the coals of arousal igniting again in her stomach.

“Want help?” She teased weakly, and all Lexa could manage was to send her a short glare. Clarke untangled herself from the sheets and came to a seated position, where she scooted over towards Lexa and pressed their foreheads together.

“Let me,” she whispered, and unbuttoned Lexa’s pants. It took the two of them an embarrassingly long time to disrobe her, Clarke still shaky from her own orgasm and Lexa’s movements becoming more and more uncoordinated, but they managed to get her jeans off and tossed to the side.

Clarke immediately straddled Lexa and pushed her to her back, then brought her own hand down to Lexa’s sex. Lexa was already long past wet, and Clarke ran the pad of her index finger across her clit, grinning fiercely as Lexa moaned and shuddered beneath her.

“Harder, Clarke,” she growled, head tilted back in agonized concentration. “ _Harder_.” 

Clarke obeyed, biting back a comment about people being pushy in favor of dragging her thumbnail lightly along Lexa’s clitoris. Lexa cried out this time, and Clarke continued, zeroing in on Lexa’s soft noises of bliss and frustration like they were the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard. 

By the time Lexa came, Clarke too was building up to another orgasm, and a few moments of stroking her own sex brought her into a second wave of pleasure that crashed through her bones.

Lexa recovered first, but she lay still by Clarke’s side as the blonde panted her way back into lucidity.

“Well damn,” Clarke said faintly. She rolled to face Lexa, and reached out a hand to brush the other girl’s curls from her eyes. Lexa’s cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted, and Clarke tried to commit to memory all the warmth and awe she was feeling in this moment.

“Damn indeed,” Lexa teased, grey eyes sparkling. “If I do say so myself.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I would throw a pillow at you, but I just had the best damn orgasms that I can remember and I don’t think my limbs are working yet.”

Lexa stretched, long-limbed like a cat, and snuggled into Clarke’s side. “We could just sleep,” she said, her words lost in a yawn. Clarke yawned too.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” she murmured, her eyes already sliding closed. She reached over and managed to tug a blanket over the two of them using one hand, since Lexa’s arms were pinned somewhere beneath hers, and with a warm, sweet-smelling body tucked into hers, Clarke was asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, and it serves mostly as an epilogue. Thanks for sticking with me!


	7. Epilogue

Clarke woke sometime in the early hours of the morning, blinking into the dark blue cast of night, her mind calm and clear for the first time in weeks. Raven was right, she _had_ needed to get laid. But last night had been about so much more than hormones, she realized as she craned her neck to look down at the girl sleeping to her right. Lexa’s hair was spread across the pillow in lazy chestnut tangles, and Clarke freed a hand to wind it through her fingers. Lexa sighed in her sleep and murmured something, but she didn’t stir, and with a smile on her face, Clarke fell back into dozing.

She woke again several hours later to a much brighter room. Their bodies had shifted during the night, with Lexa’s arm flung across Clarke’s bare torso and her face pressed into the pillow beside her right shoulder. There were tiny freckles coating her cheekbones like glitter, and Clarke resisted the urge to press a kiss to each and every one of them. She did, however, press a kiss to Lexa’s forehead, and the other girl stirred.

“Sleep,” Lexa murmured, and Clarke, smiling, let her lips creep towards the bridge of Lexa’s nose. 

“We’ve already done that.”

“Mmm.” Lexa let out a little mewl of protest as Clarke nosed against her more insistently, pressing their foreheads together and exhaling soft breaths into Lexa’s face until she could see her eyelashes stir.

“God, you’re such a nudge in the mornings,” Lexa rasped, finally rousing enough to swat Clarke away.

“I slept really well,” Clarke replied with a sly grin, finding Lexa’s hand on her ribcage and lacing their fingers together. Lexa sleepily stroked a thumb across her knuckles and yawned before her eyes flickered open. Once again, Clarke was caught trying to find words for the color of Lexa’s eyes, so stunning and iridescent when they were this close together.

“What?” Lexa asked, and the skin around her eyes crinkled into delicate folds as her lips curved into a shy smile. “You’re staring.”

“Nothing,” Clarke lied, and reached down to capture Lexa’s lips with her own.

They kissed for several more breaths, soft and lazy beneath the sunbeams sneaking through Clarke’s blinds, until Clarke hummed into Lexa’s lips and broke the kiss with a murmured, “Bathroom.”

She returned a few moments later to find Lexa propped up on her elbows, ivory sheets draped across her torso with an elegance that had Clarke wishing for a pencil and her sketchpad. Maybe she could convince Lexa to model for her for a future assignment.

When she mentioned it, leaning up against her doorframe and viewing Lexa with an artist’s gaze, Lexa laughed.

“So this won’t just be a one-time thing, hmm?” She asked, and while her tone was light Clarke could see the uncertainty darkening her gaze. With a burst of resolution, she returned to bed and rejoined Lexa under the covers, poking at her with cold toes until Lexa turned to look at her.

“I want it to be more than that,” Clarke said. “I want to try.”

Lexa’s eyes softened, but there was still an anxiety lurking in them that Clarke didn’t like. “Even if I’m damaged goods?”

That phrase sent a pang straight to Clarke’s heart, and she found Lexa’s hand under the covers to clasp it in her own. “I don’t think you’re damaged,” she said quietly. “No more than any of the rest of us are, anyways.”

That seemed to soothe Lexa, and she brought their joined hands to her mouth to drop a kiss on the back of Clarke’s hand. “I want to try, too,” she whispered, and Clarke couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled so widely.

“Do you want breakfast?” She asked, untwining their hands to stretch her arms over her head. She sent Lexa a knowing glance as the other girl’s eyes lingered on her chest, exposed as the sheets shifted around her, and Lexa averted her gaze with a rather endearing blush.

“Only if it’s not any trouble.”

“Not at all.” Clarke kissed her once more for good measure and went to find a bathrobe.

Sometime between stirring a lumpy excuse for pancake batter and digging through her fridge for orange juice, Clarke managed to send Raven a text message.

 **Clarke Griffin (8:21am):** So, uh  
 **Clarke Griffin (8:22am):** I think I owe you a thanks  
 **Clarke Griffin (8:22am):** Or like a gift basket or something  
 **Raven Reyes (8:25am):** Por que? What did I do this time?  
 **Raven Reyes (8:26am):** Ooh are you drinking that moscato? Told you it’s good.  
 **Clarke Griffin (8:27am):** Raven, it’s 8 in the morning. I’m not drinking wine.  
 **Raven Reyes (8:28am):** Your loss, man. It’s five o’clock somewhere.  
 **Raven Reyes (8:28am):** Wait but seriously why do you owe me a thanks?

Biting her lip, Clarke left the stove unattended to poke her head back into the bedroom. Lexa had taken a shower (and now smelled like her shampoo, which made the hyperactive butterflies in Clarke’s stomach launch into a tango) and was clad only in a towel as she squeezed out her hair over the sink.

“Weird question, but can I take a selfie of us?” Clarke asked.

Lexa, meeting Clarke’s gaze in the mirror, arched a regal eyebrow. “We’re not wearing clothes.”

“It’s for Raven.” Clarke felt a blush prickling at her cheeks, and she ducked her head. “She swore that she was going to, ah, ‘get me laid,’ was the way she put it.”

Lexa’s brows crept even higher. “So I’m a tally on your scoresheet, huh, Griffin?”

“No, that’s not — Lexa —“ Clarke spluttered to a stop when she saw the teasing smile on Lexa’s face.

“Come here, you goof,” Lexa said, tossing her damp hair over one shoulder and pulling Clarke into her side. “Let’s give Raven a reason to celebrate.”

 **Clarke Griffin (8:35am):** [image]  
 **Clarke Griffin (8:36am):** Feel free to start with the ‘I told you so’s

Seconds later Clarke’s phone rang, and she pushed away from Lexa with a laugh. “I’d better go answer this before she shows up at my front door.”

Raven was ecstatic, and Clarke nearly burned the pancakes while trying to simultaneously talk to her on the phone until Lexa swooped in to save the day.

When the two girls arrived at band practice that afternoon, hand in hand, they were greeted by an unexpected din of party-poppers and noise-makers. 

“There they are!” Raven crowed, and the assembled group cheered. Clarke was about to kick Raven in the knee until she noticed that they were all wearing paper party hats, and she threw back her head in laughter.

“Reyes, I’m going to kill you,” she said, grinning, squeezing tighter to Lexa’s hand when the other girl began to look like she was going to make a break for it.

Raven skipped over to greet them, a cowbell dangling from her hand. “I was going to get a giant cake reading ‘Congrats on the Sex’ but they couldn’t have it ready by this afternoon,” she said breezily, and Clarke let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Fine, let’s get it out of the way,” she said, raising her voice so the entire band could hear her. “Lexa and I are dating now, happy?”

The riotous cheers in response were enough to make even Lexa smile, and with that, she leaned over to press a tiny kiss to Clarke’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around until the very end, folks! This is one of the first multi-chaptered fics I've ever written to completion, and I couldn't have done it without all the kudos and comments I kept getting from you all.
> 
> This is the end of this story here, but it's not the end of Clarke and Lexa's! I'm going to take a bit of a break from this fandom and work on a Carmilla AU I've been planning out, so if that's something you're interested in, keep your eyes open for it! And as always, you can come hang with me @ clarkesmech on Tumblr.
> 
> Till next time xoxo


End file.
